Attending an Orchestral Concert as an Autistic Adult: Music, Movement and Masking

Music helps me navigate life, and my autistic experience of live music has become an important part of how I regulate my nervous system.

I have a strong emotional link to music. If I’m feeling sad but suppressing my emotions without realising it, certain types of music can make me cry. I’ll hear a short clip of powerful classical music and start crying, without being able to stop. In those circumstances, it can help anchor me into the present moment and really tune in to how I am feeling.

I can put on one of my favourite artists, and sing and dance through whatever emotions I am feeling. I love that music has had such a profound impact on my life since I first discovered it. It has been an emotional support for me, long before my late autism diagnosis.

Being a long-time attender of contemporary music events, if one of my favourite artists plays, I have to go and see them. This was something I experienced in my autistic joy when I saw Malugi, my favourite DJ, at a daytime event. There’s nothing that beats the live music experience, the feeling of the music vibrating through my body and the happiness it brings.

A Different Kind of Live Music Experience

This year, I’m making a conscious effort to see more live music in ways that I wouldn’t normally experience. I’d like to see the opera, something that I have never seen live before, perhaps go to a musical too.

I signed up to the mailing list of a couple of local venues and a live orchestral performance caught my eye. It was a local orchestra performing scores from movies. I bought tickets for Egg (that’s my husband) and I.

My First Live Orchestral Experience

We attended the concert a couple of weeks ago, and what a treat it was. So many different sounds and vibrations all at once that buzzed through my system in a satisfying way. I loved watching the musicians and how invested they were in making such beautiful music. At the end, they even played songs from my favourite film trilogy, The Lord of the Rings.

The Urge to Move (and the Pressure Not To)

As you can imagine, I got very excited. I was struggling to sit in my seat. Very aware that I was in a public place and that I should probably stay in line with others through my vigilant social masking, I started observing the rest of the audience.

The whole audience was completely still. I found it baffling. How can you hear this incredible music and not want to move your body? Mine was instinctively craving to move to the music.

I looked more closely and noticed at least three people who were doing little movements, but looked like they were restraining themselves. I thought perhaps that they were like me and wanted to move too, but felt that they couldn’t or shouldn’t.

Choosing to Unmask and Let My Body Move

There was an interval break halfway through. In that break, I decided I should stop masking. It doesn’t do me any good in the long run if I stop my body from moving freely. It signals my nervous system that I’m not safe, which can lead to autistic burnout and dysregulation.

So, when the performance started for the second half, I started swaying to the music. I let my body move and feel the music. My legs also wanted to move, so I thought, why not? They started jiggling around to the sounds. My hands felt like they wanted to move too, so I started moving them and they found Egg’s scarf with tassels on it. I was smoothing and rubbing the tassels in time to the music and it felt good. A little bit of stimming into the mix.

I did keep my movements relatively calm compared to when I’m at home freely dancing around the house. But allowing myself to feel and move to the music at the concert was wonderful. I was conscious of the people behind me, and I hope I didn’t become too distracting to them!

After I started moving, I noticed Egg doing some little movements too. Perhaps someone saw Egg moving and it inspired them to also add some movement to their experience.

Regardless, I am grateful that I allowed myself to move to the music. It allowed me to take my sensory experience to the next level and reduce any negative effects in my body afterwards.

Listening to My Body and Building Safety

I listened to my intuition. Something I’m learning to trust as I continue my journey of moving from survival to safety.

Creating nervous system safety is a slow, patient process for me after so many years of feeling unsafe. I love how I caught myself taking a little step forwards, in a situation where I was doing something that I love.

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Much love,

Rachael xx

The Invisible Onion