Online I can speak as well as I am able, free of judgement and uncaring of whether or not I intimidate others simply by speaking up. There are no contextual assumptions. The playing field is level.
In real life I hide the skills I have because I know what reaction even a heavily filtered portion (less than 10% of my total capacity) can elicit. (I'm not the smartest person in the room, but I will be among the upper echelons.) (I work with the general public five days a week, and for a majority of people trying to shift into anything faster than second gear can be a challenge.)
Meanwhile, I will have cross referenced a request, bypassed the computer, and found the book based on two obscure pieces of information while the individual is still dithering with explaining how they looked but couldn't find the book on the shelf. (That type of information in noncorollary to requisite date, thusly, please don't explain why you need assistance, asking for help is fine, it doesn't require justification.)
I hate banal conversation (small talk) and face to face interactions. The amount of effort it takes is horrendous. I can get through my work week because I love books, people are just background noise to that central interest. Actual face to face interactions are exceedingly rare for me outside of work. I generally go out of my way to avoid people. They require too much energy and engagement to make interactions worthwhile.
My interests align with my severely introverted nature. They don't require other people and in certain cases are so obscure, no one would have the least bit of understanding or interest should I actually decide to engage.
(I never tell real world people I write because then any further conversation becomes all about the book they are writing or plan to write, can I help them get it featured at the bookstore? This is one of those patterns that you don't want to find, but see repeated across a number of situations across the years.)
I work frontside retail (bookshop), thusly people make a number of assumptions from the context (often about my skill sets and mental acuity), assumptions I have the ability to cinder in about thirty seconds simply by setting my mask down. (I like what I do. I stay because of the books, not the people.)
There is a reason so much of my own work circles around the central imagery of Turtle upon Tide and a Star Socks Fox who keeps the stories of alien constellations safe in the stars he wears. That shell is a very real thing, but like the turtle who carries the world, very few recognize the shell is there, let alone find any hint of the turtle.
Gaining access into the constellations of the Star Socks Fox is a rare occurrence, but those who do are the ones who truly matter. (Close family and friends I've had for a decade and more.)
A bit like a cat, I engage on my own terms and tend to be incredibly wary of strangers. It isn't because I'm shy, it is because there is very little I gain from interacting with others on a face to face basis. It isn't arrogance or conceit that fuels these observations, it is decades of my own company and an accrued self awareness.
Some might call it hyper-independence and treat it as a major character flaw or a trauma reaction, but the kicker is I have enough sense to ask for help when I truly need it. I might be stubborn, but I'm not stubborn to the point of stupidity or self harm. I don't require interactions with others to give me direction and/or purpose. I am a self sustaining, self starter. I always have been.
Arrogant, aloof, shy, snooty, hoity-toity, stuck up, snob...I can recite the thesaurus by rote of the adjectives that I've accrued in real life simply because I don't want to engage in small talk. I can do it if I need to, but I find it easier to blend into the wall rather than engage with people. I won't compete to be heard, which is why I love written communication. I can set down my mask and articulate a bit of the noise in my head. Folks can take it or leave it, but I voiced the thoughts and they aren't lost because others are trying to talk over you.
Glass rabbit idioms are rife in all aspects of my unmasked communications, it is one of the most glaring of my autistics traits, but it is also one of the clearest indicators that I have engaged completely with a conversation. Those who are deft enough to translate the dialects of geek speak tend to be the people I resonate with be it online or IRL.
