AITA for asking a woman to be quiet in the silent area of the library and ruining her presentation?

A stressed STEM college student with AuDHD is second-guessing themselves after politely asking a woman to stop recording a loud presentation in the library’s designated silent area. Exhausted from only five hours of sleep due to PTSD and anxiety, they were struggling to focus on lab work when the talking started—louder than conversation level, right in the zone with multiple “No Talking” and “Silent Area” signs.

They checked with another student first (who was also annoyed) before approaching her calmly during a pause, suggesting she move to the nearby quiet-but-not-strict section. She got upset, packed up, then yelled that the interruption ruined her presentation and she only had “2 seconds left” (which the student knew was a lie). Now the student feels guilty, panicky about possible trouble, and wonders if they were the asshole for not just enduring it.

‘AITA for asking a woman to be quiet in the silent area of the library and ruining her presentation?’

The story begins with the student desperately needing silence to focus amid exhaustion and neurodivergence:

A woman sits nearby and begins recording a presentation at a disruptive volume:

After confirming others were annoyed too, the student politely approaches during a natural pause:

As the student returns to their seat, the woman yells accusations and claims the presentation is destroyed:

This is a classic clash between personal needs in shared spaces and the expectations of “silent zones” in libraries. The student has legitimate reasons to be in the designated silent area—AuDHD makes noise hypersensitivity a real barrier to focus, especially when sleep-deprived from PTSD/anxiety. Libraries create these zones specifically so people who struggle with distractions can work effectively; they aren’t optional guidelines.

The woman recording a presentation was clearly misusing the space. Silent areas are for quiet, individual work—not for speaking aloud, even if it’s “only a little.” She had access to other quiet zones or group areas that allow normal-volume activity, including recording. Her defensive reaction (“only 2 seconds left”) and yelling afterward was an attempt to shift blame and avoid accountability.

From a neurodiversity perspective, experts (including those from the National Autistic Society and ADHD organizations) emphasize that sensory accommodations aren’t “special privileges”—they’re necessities for equal access to public spaces. Asking someone to follow posted rules isn’t micromanaging; it’s enforcing a shared agreement. The guilt the student feels is common in people-pleasers or those with rejection-sensitive dysphoria (common in AuDHD), but enforcing boundaries isn’t rude—it’s fair.

Practical take: Approaching politely during a pause was the right move. Involving a librarian next time would remove personal conflict, but the student isn’t wrong here. The woman ruined her own presentation by choosing the wrong location, not the student. This isn’t about being “grumpy”—it’s about protecting focus in a space designed for it. The student did nothing wrong; they advocated for their needs and the needs of others who were also disturbed. Self-compassion is key—guilt doesn’t mean wrongdoing; it often means you’re kind-hearted.

Here’s what Redditors had to say:

The online community overwhelmingly sided with the student, agreeing the woman misused the silent area and the student was completely justified:

Most people emphasized that silent areas exist for silence, and the woman brought the problem on herself:

Many recommended involving library staff next time to avoid direct confrontation:

Others were blunt in support and told the student not to feel guilty:

Silent areas in libraries exist for a reason—to give everyone, especially those with sensory sensitivities, a fair shot at focusing. You didn’t ruin her presentation; she chose the wrong space and reacted poorly when reminded of the rules.

Guilt is understandable when you’re kind-hearted and exhausted, but you handled it politely and reasonably. You advocated for yourself and others without being rude. Give yourself grace. Have you ever had to enforce library rules or deal with similar situations? How did it go? Share below—we’re on your side.