Last year I was diagnosed with Autism. It was a diagnosis that had been brought up a few times in the past, but until recently I wasn’t open to the possibility of an assessment. I’d rather unpolitely told my key worker when I was under the Child and Adolescent Mental Health Service to stick it. But last year I had my assessment as I decided that I’d lived long enough feeling like something was wrong with me and I needed answers.

For so many people, myself included, being diagnosed as autistic can feel like that one missing piece of the puzzle has finally slotted in to place. It is a moment of clarity that can explain years of feeling different and misunderstood. But it can also bring about other emotions – relief, confusion, grief, and sometimes joy. More and more people are finding out that they’re autistic as adults as we finally recognise what autism looks like and how it might present. This comes after years of trying to navigate a world that wasn’t built for them.

ASD is a historically under-diagnosed condition especially in women, people of colour, and those who don’t have obvious behavioural challenges. Many of us who are diagnosed later in life grew up at a time when autism awareness was limited and only really associated with children or those presenting with stereotypical traits.

For me, I spent years of my life feeling like something was wrong with me. I never seemed to fit into the typical mould that my peers did – I wasn’t interested in the same things as them, I preferred to spend time alone, and I really struggled with forming and maintaining friendships. So when I received my diagnosis I felt a huge wave of relief because there was finally an explanation for why I had felt different my entire life. It provided validation and allowed me to stop beating myself up for my difficulties.

I started to feel all the feelings – I felt sad, frustrated, angry and overwhelmed, with relief mixed in for good measure.

I was angry with myself that when CAMHS discussed the possibility of me being autistic, I told them to stick it and refused to discuss it any further. I felt angry with myself that I never went ahead with an assessment. I was frustrated that no one else noticed the signs prior to this, especially when everything began to feel incredibly obvious.

Why did I feel like this?

Because if I had been recognised as autistic 5, 10, 15 years ago I’d have probably achieved my degree. I’d have been able to understand myself better and make adjustments that may have made university and work more feasible. I might not have chronic mental health issues or have spent so long in environments that are so unsuitable for neurodiverse individuals. I’d have had years to wrap my head around it all. I began to feel like life could look so different for me.

But I also began to learn that autism isn’t something for me to fix. And I started to feel relief that at least I could start to make adaptations to my life that will benefit me from here on. I realised that I could start to embrace myself in an authentic way and that I could celebrate my strengths and skills.

Yes, receiving my diagnosis meant I had to make a huge shift in self-understanding. I had to begin unlearning societal expectations that I’d spent years trying to adapt to. I realised that my diagnosis didn’t change who I am – I have always been autistic and will always be autistic – and that is ok! I now get to try and build a life that allows me to honour my needs, strengths, and individuality.

All my love,

Anna x