Certain questions, the kind meant to build connections, often have the opposite effect on me. When someone asks, “Tell me about yourself,” or “What’s been happening in your life?” I find myself freezing up, my mind spinning with a flurry of thoughts I can’t seem to organize. Rather than drawing me out, these social-based questions make me feel cornered, pressured to synthesize complex information and deliver an emotional response that I struggle to articulate. In those moments, I feel both collapsed and intruded upon all at once.

This discomfort puzzled me for a long time — until I came across the work of Dr. Marilyn Monteiro. A few years ago, I watched a recording of a talk where she discussed using the MIGDAS, an autism assessment she developed that’s more affirming and less intrusive than many others. Dr. Monteiro described how she engages with children not with direct, socially-focused questions, but by entering their world through sensory entry points and object-focused methods. This approach — allowing children to pick up the conversation at their own pace without the pressure of immediate social demands — resonated deeply with me.

As I listened to Dr. Monteiro, I began to see parallels between her method and my own experiences. I realized that what she advocates for with children reflects the way I’ve always felt more comfortable engaging in conversations through ideas and observations, rather than direct personal inquiries.

In contrast to socially-based prompts, when someone engages me at the level of ideas — exploring concepts, questions, or musings — I come alive. I feel a genuine connection both to myself and to the other person. For example, when my former therapist would begin a session with “What’s on your mind?” instead of “How are you?” I felt immediate relief. I could talk about the ideas and concepts floating in my mind far more easily than attempting to synthesize and articulate how I was doing. Discussing Levinas’ philosophy or diving into psychoanalytic concepts became a medium for expressing my inner world. Through the use of ideas, I was finally able to connect with a therapist and explore my inner self. (For more on my experience of therapy as an Autistic person, you can read here.)

It’s as if the access point to my inner world comes from a side angle rather than head-on. Questions that ask for direct social access feel too intrusive, overwhelming, and confusing. Indirect access through ideas and objects gives me the space to gently expand into the conversation with a sense of aliveness.

In the context of therapy, discussing ideas rather than emotions is often dismissed as intellectualizing or seen as a psychological defense. While that can sometimes be true, it’s not always so clear-cut. In our daily lives, this style of communication centering emotions can lead to subtle misunderstandings or quiet strain. A parent might feel adrift, unable to find an entry point into their child’s inner world through typical emotional questions. Spouses might struggle to attune to one another, their differing conversational styles creating friction and a sense of distance. In friendships and the ebb and flow of workplace interactions, efforts to communicate and connect can face unexplained friction.

The entry points into conversation – and into our inner worlds –  are an aspect of neurodivergent communication that can differ greatly. What invites one person to unfold and share their story in the presence of another might cause someone else to retreat. So how do we find each other when these differences create barriers to connection? One place to start is by understanding the distinction between social-based and object-based conversations.

Drawing on the work and concepts of Dr. Monteiro, I began using the terms 'object-based' and 'social-based' to simplify and articulate the different ways I experience these types of conversations. This language has helped me better navigate interactions, allowing me to recognize the kind of communication that best fosters connection and understanding in my relationships.

What Are Social-Based Conversations?

A social-based conversation begins with an entry point centered on the people involved, not just the topic at hand. It’s about prioritizing the relationship and emotional connection. When we ask someone, “How was your day?” we’re not just asking for a rundown of events — we’re inviting them to share their feelings and experiences.

In these conversations, the social context takes precedence. The value lies in the exchange of emotions, perspectives, and unspoken understandings. The relational aspect is key, guiding the flow and depth of the interaction. Social bids are made, and social bids are perceived — especially if you’re allistic. It’s less about the specific content and more about how that content is shared and received, with each participant contributing to a dynamic that extends beyond the words being spoken. 

The image that comes to mind when I think of social-based conversations is two people looking at one another while playing catch. The subject and object of the conversation are each other, and they casually toss the ball back and forth as they share pieces of their personhood.

My Personal Struggles with Social-Based Conversations 

I suspect I struggle with social-based conversations for several reasons, but I’ll focus on a few that stand out to me.

1. Social-Based Questions Feel Too Broad

Many social-based questions are broad and lack a specific context (or perhaps they exist within a social context that my mind doesn’t perceive — more on that next). For example, when someone asks, “How are you doing?” I often find the question too broad to answer meaningfully. I need more specificity — are we talking about my health, my work life, or my experience as a parent? I struggle to synthesize all these facets of my life into a succinct response.

For instance: I have health struggles, but I find a lot of meaning in my work; I grapple with my mental health, yet I’m in a greater place of self-acceptance than ever before; I’m proud of my kids, while also being scared for their future. How am I? I am many things, and I feel many things. The question feels too general, and I struggle to condense the complexity of my experiences into a simple answer.

2. Navigating Conversations Without a Social Context Filter

I’ve realized that I approach these questions factually, whereas many allistic people view them as social bids — a way to connect emotionally or relationally. They respond to the social bid and social context itself, rather than focusing on the literal content of the question. My brain, however, tends to zero in on the specifics, making it overwhelming to identify the most accurate answer.

Take the question, “What’s your favorite book?” My brain immediately starts running through the catalog of impactful books I’ve read. And again, I need more context — are we talking about my favorite psychology book, a book on neurodivergence, or a fantasy novel?

A recent conversation with my colleague and friend, Dr. Donna Henderson, shed light on this dynamic. She explained that when she’s asked about her favorite book, she tailors her answer to the context — mentioning a psychology book with a colleague, but a novel with a neighbor. Curious, I asked her if she consciously makes that decision or if it’s more automatic. She reflected that it’s an automatic process for her; she isn’t consciously analyzing the decision. Instead, the social context she perceives (as an allistic person) naturally filters out irrelevant information.

When she described this, it felt like she was explaining some magical other dimension. I realized that having a filter that automatically sifted out irrelevant information and informed me of the intent behind the words would completely change the nature of these conversations for me. It’s like two people syncing up and agreeing to dance together, where the words are just the steps of the dance, not the actual focus. For me, though, the words and the information they carry are the dance.

There’s a whole dimension to allistic conversation that I often miss — where the social context acts as a filter, helping minds zoom in on the most relevant or pertinent information. In contrast, my brain doesn’t filter this way, so I find myself sifting through all the possible data to provide the most accurate answer to the question being asked.

3. The Questions Feel Like Incoming Demands

When I’m asked a broad or vague question, I feel an immediate pressure to decode the intentions behind it, synthesize my thoughts, and articulate a response. This process feels more like work than connection; it’s as if I’m being asked to perform a complex task rather than engage in a conversation. It can also feel like a sensory demand, overwhelming my mental resources as I try to process the question and formulate an answer that feels both accurate and appropriate.

What’s particularly challenging is when it seems the person isn’t truly interested in the answer — they’re just making small talk. In these instances, the demand feels even more burdensome, because it feels like the effort I’m putting in isn’t being reciprocated with genuine interest. On the other hand, when the person does seem sincere, the pressure increases because I don’t want to let them down with a less-than-perfect response. Or I don’t want to be perceived as incompetent as I struggle to cobble together an answer!

This combination of perceived obligation and emotional labor can quickly shut me down. The question, rather than opening a door to connection, ends up creating a barrier, leaving me feeling exhausted and disconnected.

Given these challenges, I’ve often found myself seeking alternative ways to connect — approaches that feel less overwhelming and more aligned with how my brain processes information. This is where object-based conversations come into play. Unlike social-based conversations, which often leave me feeling exhausted and disconnected, object-based conversations provide a structure that allows me to engage deeply without the pressure of navigating vague or broad questions. These conversations center on specific topics or ideas, creating a shared focus and context from which I can more authentically and meaningfully engage. Let me explain what I mean by object-based conversations.

What Are Object-Based Conversations?

An object-based conversation begins with a focus on a specific topic, idea, or piece of information. The emphasis is on the subject matter itself. These conversations revolve around facts, concepts, or tangible things — what happened, how something works, or why a particular event unfolded the way it did.

In an object-based conversation, the content takes center stage. Participants engage with the material directly, analyzing, debating, or exploring it with curiosity with the aim of deepening their understanding. 

While emotions and social dynamics often play a role, they are usually secondary to the main topic or embedded within it. However, in my experience, the emotional energy is often intertwined with the subject at hand — it’s not something separate or secondary, but deeply connected.

The image that comes to mind when I think of object-based conversations is two people standing side by side, gazing at a sunset. They are both mesmerized by its beauty, discussing what they see and experience, sharing their thoughts about the sunset itself. While the conversation isn’t directly about them, it’s about the experience they’re sharing together, and in doing so, they are sharing a part of themselves.

Facilitating an Object-Based Conversation

Facilitating an object-based conversation begins with an entry point focused on the topic rather than the relationship. This approach signals to the other person, “I’m here with you, but I’m not placing any demands on you.“ (Monteiro, n.d.).

For example, let’s say your teenage child has a special interest in the Marvel Universe. Instead of asking general questions like “How did you like the movie?” you can engage more directly with the content of the movie. Even if you don’t know all the details, showing genuine interest in what they love can go a long way. And don’t worry if you make a mistake sometimes; factual correction is a form of love language for Autistic people 🙂  

You might start by making a simple comparison based on what you’ve noticed: “I’ve noticed the Marvel movies often emphasize humor in their storytelling, while DC films seem to focus on darker, more serious themes.” This kind of statement shows that you’re paying attention to what they care about and directs the conversation toward the content itself, creating a natural opening for engagement.

Another strategy is to introduce a straightforward fact or observation about the topic at hand. Instead of asking about someone’s personal connection to the Marvel series, you might say, “The Marvel movies are full of interesting character crossovers.” This keeps the focus on the material itself, allowing the conversation to flow naturally without the pressure of social-based questions. 

The key to facilitating an object-based conversation is to use the subject matter as a starting point. By making comparisons or presenting relevant facts, you open the door to deeper engagement, allowing the conversation to evolve naturally — or not — depending on the other person’s comfort and energy levels, which also helps reduce any sense of demand.

Personal Experience with Object-Based Conversations

I find it much easier to engage in conversations about myself when they are approached from an object-based perspective. While I haven’t found researchers talking explicitly about this, I’ve found it helpful to take a more object-based approach when discussing the social aspects of my life. 

This method involves talking about social content in a way that feels less direct and demanding. There’s a significant difference when a conversation approaches a topic from the side, rather than head-on.

Consider these two examples:

• Social-Based Approach: “How was your day?” This question, though well-intentioned, often requires me to organize my thoughts and emotions into a cohesive narrative, which can feel overwhelming and demanding. It also lacks a specific context to anchor into — after all, a day can be wide-ranging and varied.

• Object-Based Approach: “You recorded a podcast today — I remember you mentioned feeling a bit nervous about it.” In this case, my spouse recalls a specific detail I shared, offering a focused and descriptive entry point into the conversation that feels more like an invitation than a demand. I can choose to expand on it or not. 

It’s worth noting that this indirect style might be confusing for some, as it can be unclear whether it’s an open-ended question or just a statement. Some Autistic people might prefer a direct question, such as "You recorded a podcast today—I remember you mentioned feeling a bit nervous about it. How did it end up going?" Autistic people with demand avoidance may prefer descriptive language, while others prefer explicit questions. No two Autistic people are alike.

Object-based conversations might initially seem cold or impersonal, but in my experience, they can be deeply personal and relational. This approach allows me to stay grounded in something tangible while engaging in meaningful social interactions. Here are a few examples of how I might discuss social content using object anchors:

• Talking about Relational Dynamics: When discussing relationships, I often focus on the dynamics at play—the subtle patterns of behavior, communication, and emotional responses between myself and the other person. For example, when someone compliments me, I tend to push it away and retreat. In these moments, I engage in metacognition by naming the dynamic as it’s happening, saying something like, “I appreciate the compliment. Compliments are hard for me to take in, so I’m pivoting the conversation—not because I don’t appreciate it, but because it’s uncomfortable for me.” By shifting the focus and attention to describing and discussing the interaction and my emotional response to it, the interaction itself becomes the object we are collectively looking at with curiosity. This approach makes the conversation both deeply personal and grounded.

• Talking about a Book: A book can serve as an entry point, providing something concrete to gather around. As the discussion unfolds, the conversation often naturally evolves into more personal territory, but it remains grounded by the initial subject, making it easier to navigate.

• Analyzing Social Trends or Cultural Phenomena: Examining broader social or cultural trends offers a way to explore our own values, lifestyle choices, or observations. This approach uses the trend as a starting point, allowing for personal reflection within a broader context.

• Associations: During a conversation, I might share associations that come to mind, exploring with curiosity what they may or may not signify. In this case, the association itself becomes the anchoring object, but it’s also connected to the relational field.

Of course, many people naturally start conversations by discussing books, movies, or shared experiences — this isn’t just an Autistic trait! It’s a common way humans connect. However, what sets an object-based approach to social material apart is the intentional use of these topics as steady anchors. While some might use these subjects as casual entry points before diving into personal territory, object-based conversations keep the topic central, providing a shared context and a structure that feels safe and manageable, especially when discussing social content.

The object, like a sunset, serves as both the muse and the contextual anchor, inviting shared contemplation. This approach is particularly valuable for those who, like me, find direct questions about emotions or my personhood overwhelming and too context-less. By focusing on a tangible subject, conversations shift to shared exploration, allowing for a more comfortable pace. If the conversation becomes too intense, the focus can easily return to the object, providing an anchor and the ability to adjust the depth of discussion.

So, yes; while everyone might use topics like books or movies in conversation, an object-based approach offers a thoughtful way to stay grounded, anchoring the social interactions in context and making them less demanding.

Conclusion

Understanding the difference between social-based and object-based conversations has become an invaluable lens for me, both personally and professionally. It’s allowed me to articulate why certain interactions feel more comfortable and meaningful than others and has given me a framework to navigate conversations in a way that feels more authentic. 

By embracing my object-based approach, I’ve found that I can connect more authentically with others — not by forcing myself into the mold of traditional social expectations, but by leaning into my natural ways of connecting. If someone is asking me a lot of social-based questions, I will often find an adjacent object into which I can anchor.

For those who, like me, have felt the discomfort of social-based conversations, I hope this framework offers validation and resources for finding ways to allow others access to your inner world. And for those seeking to understand someone who does better with object-based conversations, I hope it provides insight into how to find supportive inroads and entryways toward connection.

By being mindful of the different ways people connect, we can cultivate spaces where people feel seen, heard, and understood — creating more moments of belonging, even across neurological divides.

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References

McDuffie, A. S., Lieberman, R. G., & Yoder, P. J. (2012). Object interest in autism spectrum disorder: a treatment comparison. Autism : the international journal of research and practice, 16(4), 398–405. https://doi.org/10.1177/1362361309360983

Monteiro, M. (n.d.). How the MIGDAS-2 helps develop a comprehensive framework for autism evaluations [Video]. WPS Western Psychological Services. YouTube.https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCURL