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Last update 21 Apr 2025
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⚠️ Author’s Note / Disclaimer: This article is not part of my field of studies or research. It emerged out of a simple discussion which lead to a literature review and this small summary. While I am not a medical expert, this summary has been compiled to the best of my ability. Though I aim for accuracy, there may be errors.
Asperger’s Syndrome—now classified within Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD)—is characterized by difficulties in social communication, alongside restricted interests and imaginative engagement. Yet many autistic adolescents and adults demonstrate a strong affinity for fantasy-based interaction, such as role-playing games (RPGs), imaginary worlds, and immersive daydreaming[1,2]. Far from being mere escapism, these fantasy modes often serve as an alternative channel of social communication and emotional expression. This review examines how and why individuals with Asperger’s/ASD use fantasy role-play in social contexts, the cognitive and emotional benefits conferred, the prevalence and patterns of such behavior, and clinical perspectives on harnessing (or managing) this tendency. A comparison to neurotypical individuals’ use of fantasy is also provided. Evidence is drawn primarily from peer-reviewed studies in psychology, psychiatry, and cognitive science, supplemented by clinical observations and supported by popular-press reporting where appropriate.
Many autistic teens and adults gravitate toward role-play (taking on fictional characters or personas) as a comfortable form of social interaction. In live-action or tabletop role-playing games, participants collaboratively create stories and act out characters, which provides a structured context for engagement. Notably, autistic youth have been observed to be “intuitively drawn” to such fantasy games and thrive within them[3]. Shared fantasy narratives offer a common language and script, helping to overcome the usual confusion of unspoken social rules. For an individual who finds the real social world unpredictable, a role-play scenario comes with explicit rules and roles that everyone consents to, leveling the playing field[4]. As one autistic LARPer (live-action role-player) described, “as an autistic person, LARP has brought me places where the rules are shared and I can have the same language as others,” allowing them to finally communicate and create with others on equal terms[4]. In essence, fantasy role-play serves as a “social simulator”, enabling autistic individuals to engage in dialogue, collaboration, and even conflict within the safe boundaries of a fictional context[2].
Imagination as a social tool: Autistic participants often report using their rich imagination and fantasy life purposefully to handle social situations. For example, some develop elaborate imaginary friends or personas and use these to practice conversations or navigate stressful interactions[5]. They may act out an alter ego (such as a favorite superhero or original character) during real-life encounters, effectively role-playing through daily social exchanges[5]. This can compensate for social difficulties by providing a script or set of expected behaviors to follow. Tony Attwood notes that many with Asperger’s have a prodigious memory for dialogues and will memorize scripts of real conversations or mimic fictional characters, so that “knowing the script means the person does not have to worry about what to say” in spontaneous social settings[5]. In other words, adopting a fantasy persona or script can remove the anxiety of not knowing the social “rules,” since the role comes with pre-defined lines or behaviors. Autistic individuals have described this strategy as a constructive coping mechanism (though outsiders might misinterpret an adult “acting out another persona” as odd or as something like multiple personality disorder)[5]. Crucially, in the fantasy mode of communication, errors or social missteps carry lesser consequences—an awkward interaction can be laughed off as “part of the game” rather than a personal failure[6]. his freedom encourages autistic players to participate in complex social exchanges (negotiating plans, turn-taking, empathizing with characters) that they might avoid in real life[6]. Over time, skills and confidence gained in the pretend realm can transfer to real-world situations, as described later in therapeutic outcomes.
Motivations for fantasy-based interaction: Interviews and qualitative studies shed light on why autistic individuals turn to fantasy and role-play. A recurring theme is control and predictability. Unlike the chaotic real world, imaginary worlds are controllable: an individual can script and direct a pretend scenario and know that events will follow the established storyline or game rules[5,7]. One clinician observed that autistic girls engaging in solitary doll play or imagined dramas “have total control and can script and direct the play without interference…an almost perfect reproduction of a real event or scene”[5]. By controlling the environment in play, they avoid the confusion that arises when interacting with real peers who may improvise or break the “rules” of play[5]. Another motivation is identity exploration and the desire for competency. Role-play allows someone who feels socially inept in real life to step into the shoes of a hero or a charismatic character. Autistic individuals may identify with fictional heroes and act as their hero “in an attempt to be successful and respected in social situations with peers”[7]. In these moments, they can experience being outgoing, brave, or humorous – qualities their real self struggles to express – within the guise of a character. This kind of identity experimentation is reported as empowering: an ethnographic study of an autism-focused LARP camp described it as engaging campers in “therapeutic reconfigurations of self and social role,” transforming autism from a source of isolation into a source of community and even personal strength[3,8]. Participants felt their autistic traits (like intense focus or imagination) actually enhanced the role-play, allowing them to shine in that environment rather than being seen as deficits[8]. Fantasy worlds also hold great intrinsic interest for many on the spectrum. Special interests commonly include science fiction, fantasy literature, mythology, or gaming[7], so role-playing in these genres is inherently motivating. Autistic players often bond over shared passions (e.g. a particular fictional universe), which facilitates social connection through mutual enthusiasm[1]. In summary, individuals with Asperger’s engage in fantasy-based interaction both to enjoy their imaginative interests and as a strategy to navigate social communication in a structured, fulfilling way.
Fantasy-based communication provides several cognitive and emotional benefits for autistic individuals. One well-documented benefit is emotional regulation and stress relief. Imagination offers a retreat from the overwhelming real world; many autistic people develop rich internal fantasy lives or immersive daydreams as a coping mechanism[1]. In a recent study, 42% of adults with ASD reported experiences of deeply immersive, sometimes “maladaptive,” daydreamin[1]. Participants described being intensely absorbed in elaborate mental fantasy worlds for extended periods. Researchers note that this tendency can be a double-edged sword: it provides a highly rewarding escape into a safe mental space, though if it becomes too dominant it may interfere with daily life[1,7]. When used in moderation, however, these fantasy retreats serve as an “emotional repair tool” – a way to self-soothe anxiety or loneliness by imagining more ideal scenarios[1]. Autistic individuals who experience social rejection or confusion can retreat into imaginative play where they feel competent and in control, thereby reducing stress and frustration[1,7]. Indeed, clinicians have observed that using fantasy as a means of escape is common in autistic and typical youth alike, but it likely holds special appeal for those with ASD who face heightened social challenges[1]. The key is that fantasy worlds are predictable and safe: nothing happens that the individual cannot handle or redo, unlike real life. This safe haven can help with emotional regulation, preventing meltdowns by offering a mental “break”[7]
Fantasy role-play also promotes skill development and learning in a manner that feels natural rather than forced. Within role-play games, autistic participants practice social cognition: reading others’ intentions, taking turns speaking, adjusting their communication to suit the character or scene. These are precisely the areas of social difficulty in ASD, yet in the context of a game or story, individuals often enthusiastically engage in such complex social tasks[8]. A qualitative study of autistic adult LARPers described LARP as an “optimal autistic space” for social learning – players felt safe enough to push their social boundaries, experiment with interactions, and even make social “mistakes” (which were treated as learning experiences rather than failures)[9]. The predictability of the game’s framework gave them confidence to try new ways of relating to others. Over time, this led to improved understanding of social nuances and increased social self-confidence in everyday life, according to participant testimonies[9]. Similarly, Visuri (2019) found that imaginary realms serve as optimal spaces for simulating social interaction – interviewees used parasocial (fiction-based) relationships and online role-play as rehearsal grounds to practice conversations and emotions, which helped them cope with real-world social encounters[2]. In essence, fantasy play can function like informal social skills training, but one that is intrinsically motivating and tailored to the individual’s pace. Unlike traditional social skills training (which often involves rote practicing of proper behaviors), role-play play is experiential – players learn by doing social interaction (as their character) and getting immediate feedback in-game[6]. For example, an autistic teen in a Dungeons & Dragons-style group might learn that if his wizard character always grabs treasure without asking the team, the other characters react negatively, mirroring real social consequences. Guided by facilitators, players can connect these scenarios to real-life manners, but even on their own they often become more aware of how their actions affect others[6]. Role-play also inherently exercises communication skills – it is often verbal or requires expressing oneself through story. Autistic participants can thus practice conversation in a structured context. Studies report improvements in areas like social awareness, cooperation, and even verbal fluency after sustained engagement in role-playing games[6].
Another key benefit is identity exploration and self-esteem. As touched on above, taking on fictional identities can help autistic individuals discover strengths and preferences. In a role-play scenario, a person might enact a confident leader or a cunning strategist, experiences that broaden their sense of self. Researchers Rosselet & Stauffer (2013), running RPG social groups for youth, concluded that players “built their identities through embracing their characters” in a secure environment[6]. This led to enhanced self-esteem: participants saw themselves succeed in the game and began to internalize a more positive self-image. They could safely experience difficult emotions (like anger or competition) through their characters and learn healthy ways to manage them, supported by peers and facilitators[6]. Importantly, the fantasy context provided a space to experience failure or negative outcomes safely. Players could, for instance, watch their character’s aggressive approach lead to an in-game consequence, and with guidance, learn to modulate aggression – all without real-life penalties[6]. This learning through simulated experience improved their emotional understanding and coping strategies. Many autistic individuals also report that finding a niche in a fantasy subculture (like a LARP community or online game guild) gives them a much-needed sense of belonging. What was once a solitary interest can become a shared group activity, reducing loneliness. One program using a D&D-like game for autistic teens found that feelings of loneliness decreased significantly over the course of the game sessions[10]. The teens bonded with each other through gameplay, forming friendships based on shared imaginative play. Participants even stated that socializing at school became “not that scary” after practicing in the game – they felt equipped to approach peers, having built confidence by role-playing interactions[10]. This illustrates the potential of fantasy-based communication to empower autistic individuals socially: by providing a bridge between their inner imaginative strengths and the outer social world, it helps convert what was a challenge into an opportunity for growth[8].
In summary, fantasy and role-play can yield numerous benefits for those with ASD: better emotional regulation (through a safe escape and rehearsal of coping strategies), enhanced social understanding and skills (via structured practice and feedback), opportunities for identity growth and self-esteem boosts, and increased social motivation and connection. These benefits are supported by a growing body of empirical research, as highlighted in the next section.
How common is fantasy-based interaction in ASD? Research suggests that a significant subset of autistic adolescents and adults engage in this behavior, though individual expression varies widely. Traditionally, autism was associated with limited imaginative play (especially in early childhood)[1]. However, more recent studies “contradict these findings, demonstrating complexity and nuance” in autistic imagination[1]. Many autistic individuals do have rich imaginations, but these often manifest in intrapersonal ways (e.g. private fantasies, solitary creative pursuits) rather than interactive pretend play with others[2]. In adolescence and adulthood, one finds a proclivity for fantasy genres and activities. For instance, survey-based studies report that teens and adults with ASD are disproportionately interested in science fiction and fantasy media, comic books, fantasy role-playing games, and video games compared to neurotypical peers[1]. One study noted that these interests are not necessarily more narrow in topic than those of neurotypicals, but tend to be more intense and immersive[1]. In other words, an autistic youth might not be more likely than any other teen to like, say, Star Wars, but if they do, they may immerse themselves in that universe to a much greater degree (memorizing every detail, role-playing characters online, etc.). This immersive tendency is reflected in the finding that 42% of adults with ASD in one sample met criteria for “probable maladaptive daydreaming”, indicating extremely deep fantasy involvement[1]. Not all fantasy engagement is maladaptive; the term here highlights intensity. A qualitative interview study of 17 autistic young adults found all of them frequently absorbed into daydreams or fictional worlds, often for pleasure but also to cope with real-life stress[2]. Fantasy role-play can take many forms, and its usage varies by individual preferences and context.
Common patterns include:
Despite these patterns, there is significant variation. Not every autistic person uses fantasy this way; interests in ASD are heterogenous. Those who do engage in fantasy interaction vary in how much it dominates their life. For some, it is an occasional hobby; for others, it becomes a central focus and primary mode of socializing. Gender and developmental history can also lead to differences. For example, case reports indicate autistic girls may create more elaborate pretend-play scenarios (doll play, imaginary friends) in childhood that superficially resemble typical play but are more scripted and controlled, whereas autistic boys might gravitate earlier to rule-based fantasy games (e.g. video games, collecting fantasy lore)[5,7]. By adolescence, both males and females on the spectrum can be deeply involved in fantasy worlds, but the content might differ (sci-fi and gaming vs. supernatural fantasy or literary fandom)[7]. Nonetheless, the underlying function—using imagination to cope and connect—appears common across genders[2].
Fantasy-based interaction is not a rare curiosity but a recurrent theme in the lives of many autistic individuals. It emerges in varying contexts—from personal daydreams to organized group games—and tends to be harnessed either subconsciously or deliberately to fulfill social and emotional needs. Some variations worth noting include the balance between adaptive and maladaptive use: When moderated, involvement in fantasy can be highly adaptive (improving skills and mood), but if it becomes an exclusive focus, it may lead to social withdrawal or blurred reality boundaries[7]. Clinicians highlight the importance of monitoring this balance. Another variation is age-related progression. In childhood, autistic imaginative play may be noticed only in solitary contexts, but by adolescence, many find peer groups (often via the internet or hobby clubs) to share their fantasy interests[2]. Adults may continue these passions lifelong; indeed, some autistic adults turn their love of fantasy into careers (e.g. writing, game design) or ongoing hobbies. It is also noteworthy that not all fantasy engagement by autistics is social—some prefer world-building alone rather than role-playing with others. Thus, fantasy can be both a private sanctuary and a social bridge, depending on the individual. Understanding these patterns helps clinicians and families recognize when a fantasy interest is enriching the person’s life versus when it might be exacerbating isolation.
Clinicians have long been aware of autistic individuals’ attraction to fantasy, and this has informed both therapeutic interventions and cautionary guidance. On one hand, therapists see great potential in leveraging fantasy and role-play for positive outcomes. Drama therapy and role-playing interventions for ASD have reported success in improving social communication, flexibility, and empathy. A systematic review of theater-based interventions found that across multiple studies, participation in improvisation, scripted role-play, and theatrical games led to gains in social interaction skills, facial emotion recognition, and communication abilities in children and adults with ASD[8]. Notably, one of the programs reviewed explicitly used a full drama curriculum (improvisational theater, role-playing, music and movement) and observed that autistic youth became more socially engaged, with their autism traits reframed “as a source of power and strength” – peers began to accept and include them, and the youths themselves gained pride in their unique contributions[8]. This aligns with Fein’s ethnographic finding that the LARP camp reimagined autism in a more positive light, motivating acceptance rather than exclusion[8].
Therapists often incorporate role-play scenarios into social skills training for adolescents with ASD. Unlike didactic teaching, this approach lets clients practice conversational turn-taking, perspective-taking, or conflict resolution in a controlled setting. For example, a therapist might role-play a job interview or a misunderstanding between friends with their client, rehearsing both ideal and non-ideal outcomes. This method is considered essential by many practitioners because it bridges the gap between knowledge and real-world performance[11]. Autistic individuals sometimes respond better to learning social rules in the “gamified” format of role-play, finding it easier to remember and apply skills that were acted out, rather than just explained. Furthermore, some therapists explicitly utilize interest-based fantasy in sessions to engage clients. A case report by a therapist (R. Harvey) using Dungeons & Dragons in group therapy illustrated that RPGs can facilitate social skills without forcing autistic kids to “mask” or pretend to be neurotypical[12]. Instead of instructing them on how to behave, the game naturally reinforces prosocial behavior (players must listen to each other, cooperate to solve quests, etc., or the game doesn’t progress). In Harvey’s group of four boys (two with ADHD, one with autistic traits, one with trauma history), the cooperative D&D game led to marked reductions in impulsivity and disruptive behavior and significant improvements in social functioning, as reported by both teachers and parents[6]. The boys spent longer periods engaged in group discussion, took initiative in problem-solving, and their confidence as group leaders grew[6]. Similar workshop-based RPG interventions saw gains in self-esteem, emotional well-being, friendship formation, and even academic performance for autistic or socially struggling youth[6]. These findings support a clinical view that fantasy role-play can be harnessed therapeutically to achieve outcomes like better emotion regulation (through safe expression in-game), improved theory of mind (by literally taking another character’s perspective), and increased motivation for social contact[6]. One study even measured quality-of-life (QoL) in autistic teens before and after a series of tabletop RPG sessions: after just five monthly sessions, there were significant improvements in overall QoL, particularly in emotional well-being and peer relations (friendship)[12]. This is remarkable, as improving QoL in adolescents with ASD can be challenging; the role-play activity achieved it by providing both enjoyment and genuine social growth.
Clinicians also emphasize the need for balance and monitoring. While fantasy play is beneficial, there are instances where it can become pathological or counterproductive. Dr. Tony Attwood warns that if an individual retreats exclusively into a fantasy world as their primary coping mechanism, it may “become the dominant or exclusive tool” for dealing with life, which raises concerns[7]. Extreme cases might blur the line between fantasy and reality, leading to possible misdiagnosis (e.g. clinicians need to differentiate an intense fantasy preoccupation from early signs of psychosis)[7]. Attwood notes examples of Asperger’s clients who became so engrossed in their imagined persona that they had trouble “separating from the alternative persona” and started to believe they had special powers, requiring gentle reality testing[7]. The consensus in clinical guidance is not to forbid fantasy engagement (since it’s a valuable outlet), but to ensure it doesn’t fully replace real-life development. Therapists may work with clients to integrate their interests with real-world opportunities (for instance, joining a supervised D&D social group rather than only solitary gaming). Families are often coached to validate the individual’s imaginative interests (so the person feels understood and respected) while also encouraging other activities to prevent excessive isolation[13]. The blog by clinician Joel Shaul suggests helping autistic youths “understand and manage the ways they use fantasy” by raising awareness of how over-involvement can impede life goals, and by offering alternative coping tools alongside fantasy[13]. In practice, this might mean setting reasonable limits on gaming time, or using a person’s fantasy passion as a gateway to social experiences (e.g. attending a Comic Con with support, or writing a story to share with a trusted friend or therapist).
Therapeutically, some autism programs have started formally incorporating fantasy-based curricula. For example, S.T.E.A.M. groups (Science, Technology, Engineering, Arts, Math) for ASD teens sometimes include game design or collaborative storytelling, which capitalize on the students’ interests in fantasy while teaching teamwork. Likewise, social skills groups for adults might use improv theater exercises, which are essentially spontaneous role-play, to improve adaptability in conversation. These approaches are grounded in the idea that imaginative engagement can draw out autistic individuals where standard social training fails. In one creative arts therapy model, clinicians reported that role-play “games” enriched with fantasy scenarios were a game-changer, allowing clients to practice DBT (dialectical behavior therapy) skills in vivo; by assuming characters, clients could explore different emotional responses and cognitive strategies more freely[14]. This innovative blending of evidence-based therapy with role-play highlights the growing respect for neurodivergent communication modes: rather than force autistic people to communicate only in neurotypical ways, therapy can meet them halfway by using their natural affinities (like fantasy).
In sum, the clinical perspective acknowledges fantasy-based interaction as a powerful double-edged sword for autistic individuals. When supported and guided, it serves as a creative tool for growth – improving social skills, confidence, and emotional health. When left unchecked or misunderstood, it can lead to over-isolation or misinterpretation. The trend in modern interventions is to embrace the strengths inherent in autistic fantasy engagement (creativity, detail focus, passion) and channel them towards positive outcomes, rather than stigmatize or extinguish them. As one review succinctly put it, “role-playing games offer a naturalistic interaction that can foster social skills in a more emergent way, without autistic players having to act in a certain way through training”, making them a valuable adjunct to traditional therapies[12].
Do neurotypical (NT) individuals use fantasy and role-play differently than those with ASD? Fantasy play is certainly not exclusive to autism—many typical adolescents enjoy role-playing games, cosplay, or immersive fiction. However, research and clinical observations suggest a few differentiating factors in how and why autistic people engage in these activities, compared to their neurotypical peers:
Despite differences, it’s crucial to note that fantasy-based interaction appeals to fundamental human needs in both neurotypes: the need for creativity, for escape, for trying new identities, and for social bonding. Autistic individuals simply leverage these interactions in a more functional, need-driven way. As one review pointed out, engaging in role-play is a normal adolescent behavior (“a typical tool for ordinary adolescents”) but for autistic youth it might become “dominant or exclusive” if they fail to find other outlets[7]. The goal from a societal and clinical standpoint is to ensure autistic people have opportunities to use their love of fantasy in healthy, community-building ways (like joining clubs, creative projects, etc.), rather than in isolating or stigmatizing ways. Neurotypicals could likely benefit from understanding this different approach to fantasy: rather than viewing an autistic person’s intense imaginary world as “childish” or “pathological,” recognizing it as a communication mode and coping tool fosters acceptance. Encouragingly, some neurotypical peers do appreciate these differences – for example, niche RPG groups often welcome autistic members for their dedication and knowledge, and friends may come to realize that a normally reserved autistic person is quite expressive when discussing their favorite fantasy series, indicating that engaging through that medium unlocks their communication. In essence, the differences boil down to autistic individuals often needing or choosing fantasy as a social lifeline, whereas neurotypicals use it more as a pastime.
Fantasy-based interaction and role-play represent a fascinating intersection between the autistic mind and the social world. Far from lacking imagination, many individuals with Asperger’s/ASD possess vibrant imaginative capacities that they channel into unique forms of communication. From the therapeutic LARP camps and tabletop game groups that transform hesitant teens into collaborative storytellers, to the solitary daydreams that provide solace and creative outlet, these fantasy engagements serve myriad purposes: practicing social scenarios, regulating emotions, exploring identity, and finding community. The literature underscores that what might appear as mere “escapism” actually has a scientific basis in neurocognitive coping and learning processes. Role-play introduces predictability and structure to social interaction (aligning with autistic preferences for order), while also offering a safe stage to play out social narratives and emotions. Empirical studies have documented improvements in communication skills, emotional well-being, and social connectivity stemming from these fantasy forays[12,10], reinforcing what autistic self-advocates have long reported anecdotally: imagination can be a bridge to understanding, not a barrier.
Clinically, there is growing appreciation for incorporating clients’ fantasy interests into interventions and for viewing intense imaginative play as an adaptive strategy rather than automatically pathologizing it. At the same time, maintaining balance is key—professionals advise guiding fantasy engagement so it remains anchored to real-life growth and does not devolve into unhealthy withdrawal[7]. The difference in fantasy usage between autistic and neurotypical individuals largely comes down to degree and function, but ultimately, both groups seek similar satisfactions from it. By recognizing fantasy-based interaction as a legitimate and valuable form of communication for those on the autism spectrum, we can better support autistic adolescents and adults in leveraging their strengths. Whether it’s through a dice roll in a dungeon, a costume on a field, or the pages of a personal novel, these imagined worlds often enable autistic people to thrive in the real one[3,8]. As one autistic LARPer eloquently put it, role-play was a place where “while we all wear masks, I could finally forsake mine”[16] — a poignant reminder that through fantasy, autistic individuals can reveal their true selves and connect with others in meaningful ways.
The claim “you never talk about something real” is misguided when applied to autistic individuals who use fantasy settings or multiple personas to communicate, because this interpretation overlooks the function and depth of meaning embedded in such modes of expression.
In summary, autistic people using fantasy settings or personas are often communicating very real emotions, questions, and relational content. Rather than being a denial of reality, this mode of interaction is an adaptive strategy to navigate and express internal truths. Dismissing it as “not real” overlooks both the scientific evidence supporting fantasy as a communication tool in ASD and the authentic effort made by the autistic person to connect in a way that works with, rather than against, their cognitive architecture.
Dipl.-Ing. Thomas Spielauer, Wien (webcomplains389t48957@tspi.at)
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