top of page

The Part of the Pandemic I Still Think About

What a Slower Life Showed Me Before My Autism Diagnosis.




Why I Still Think About the Pandemic


I think about the pandemic more often than you might expect. Not because I miss COVID. I caught the Delta variant and was sick for more than five weeks, one of the sickest I’ve ever been, and recovering took much longer than I expected. What I miss is how simple life became.


I remember looking up one day and realizing I hadn’t left the house in four weeks.


I expected that realization to feel concerning. Instead, I smiled. Amazon delivered almost everything I needed, and Walmart had started grocery delivery, so there was rarely a reason to go to the store. I’d order groceries, make one of my favorite seafood meals, put on a show I’d already watched more than once, and settle into my day. Nothing about it was exciting, but all of it felt peaceful.




A Simple Life That Felt Bigger, Not Smaller


Looking back, I don’t remember the world feeling smaller. If anything, it felt bigger.


Some days I’d walk through my neighborhood just because I felt like it, and I’d notice birds I probably would have hurried past before or stop to look at the trees.


There wasn’t a clock running in the back of my mind reminding me about the next appointment or the next errand. For what felt like the first time in a long time, I had permission to simply be.


At the time, I had no idea I was autistic. I couldn’t have explained why that slower pace felt so different. I just knew I wasn’t anxious for everything to go back to “normal.”




Being Allowed to Recover


Even being sick didn’t change that. Of course I wanted to get better. But something happened during those weeks that I didn’t recognize until years later:


I was actually allowed to recover. There wasn’t the usual pressure to hurry back, and I wasn’t trying to keep up with everyone else, because everyone else had slowed down too. My nervous system wasn’t bracing for the next thing. It could focus on healing.




What Made Sense After My Late Autism Diagnosis


After learning I was autistic, those memories suddenly made sense. It wasn’t the pandemic that brought me peace. It was the way the world slowed down enough for my nervous system to finally exhale.


I don’t think I was enjoying isolation. I was enjoying the absence of friction. There were fewer decisions to make and fewer places to be, and I wasn’t constantly wondering whether I had enough energy for one more thing. Because life wasn’t demanding so much from me, I finally had room to experience it.




I Wasn’t the Only Autistic Adult Who Felt This Way


Since my diagnosis, I’ve been reading research and listening to other autistic adults talk about those years, and what surprised me most was realizing I wasn’t alone. In one UK study, autistic adults interviewed during the first lockdown described feeling less anxious and enjoying the quieter pace of life. Another found that a meaningful number of participants had positive experiences tied to less commuting, more control over their sensory environment, and more time for their own interests. And when researchers in Europe compared autistic and non-autistic adults, the autistic participants actually reported less negative impact on their social lives.


None of these people were saying they wanted another pandemic. They were talking about the relief of a slower pace and a world that wasn’t asking quite so much of them. Reading their experiences made me feel understood in a way I never expected.


I also want to be honest that this wasn’t everyone’s experience. Many autistic people appreciated having fewer obligations but deeply missed their friends and the support they relied on, and a review of 55 studies found that, overall, the pandemic took a real toll on autistic adults’ mental health, with experiences varying widely from person to person. The relief some of us felt and the loneliness others felt can both be true. What I’m describing is what fewer demands revealed for me, not that being cut off from people is good for us.




Choosing a Simpler Life Now


Today, my life looks surprisingly similar to those years. I work from home, I still have groceries delivered, and Amazon shows up at my door more often than I’d like to admit. My routines are predictable, and I protect my calendar much more carefully than I used to. Years ago, I might have looked at that life and thought it sounded small. Now I see something different. I notice more and enjoy more, and I have enough energy to appreciate ordinary moments instead of just getting through them.


Sometimes I think we’re taught that a meaningful life has to be a busy one, that more commitments, more travel, and more invitations somehow add up to more living. That wasn’t my experience. Simplifying my life didn’t make it smaller. It made it deeper.


I don’t miss the pandemic. I miss what it accidentally revealed: what life feels like when my nervous system isn’t carrying so many invisible demands, and that peace isn’t something I have to earn after I’ve done enough. I don’t need the world to stop again to choose that. I can choose more of it now, and every time I do, my experience of the world becomes a little richer.




If You’d Like to Read More About Autism and the Pandemic

One of the things that brought me comfort after my autism diagnosis was realizing I wasn’t the only one who remembered this time in a similar way. If you’re curious, these articles explore what autistic adults experienced during the pandemic, including both the relief and the hard parts:


This journal post reflects my personal experiences and reflections. My experience isn’t meant to represent every autistic adult. Where relevant, I’ve included peer-reviewed research and additional resources for readers who would like to explore the topic further.

PsychologyPop content is educational only. It is not therapy, counseling, diagnosis, or a substitute for formal professional clinical care. The content does not create a professional clinical relationship, a therapeutic relationship, or a therapist-client relationship. If you are looking for therapy, counseling, or a diagnosis, please seek a licensed mental health professional who can provide that care within a formal professional relationship. 

  • Youtube

If you or someone you know is in immediate danger, call 911 or go to the nearest emergency room. If you are experiencing emotional distress or a mental health crisis, call or text 988 for the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline.

Elana Dunn LPC LLC ©

Copyright 2026 | All Rights Reserved​

@PsychologyPop™

bottom of page