April is National Autism Acceptance Month, and this year it’s particularly meaningful for me. I was diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder as an adult, in July of 2024, when I was in my thirties.
Autism is a spectrum, and I’m an independent adult with a family, a job, and financial independence. On the surface, you might not immediately recognize that I am neurodivergent. My journey to diagnosis began when I sought counseling for unrelated issues. My counselor noticed some self-soothing behaviors, like subtle body rocking and fidgeting, and I mentioned feeling like I never quite fit in. She recommended a few psychologists for further evaluation.
After a six-month wait, I had a virtual meeting with a psychologist. We spent nearly two hours discussing my background, including my childhood interactions, food aversions, reactions to situations, and medical history. A month later, we met in person for several hours of testing, including an IQ test and autism-specific assessments. These involved describing words, scenarios, and pictures, as well as other exercises. I also provided contact information for family and friends so the psychologist could gather additional insights.
Another month passed before we had a virtual meeting to discuss the diagnosis. Even though I suspected the outcome, hearing that I had autism spectrum disorder was still a shock. My behaviors haven’t changed much, but now I understand why I do them. I can also recognize and explain some of my quirks.
What does autism look like for me? Social interactions have always been challenging. While neurotypical people might easily converse with a stranger, it’s not the same for me. My mind races with thoughts like, “Do I say hello? Am I standing too close? They like my necklace—don’t forget to say thank you!” Group settings are even more difficult. I struggle to find the right time to contribute to conversations, often either interrupting or not speaking up at all. Reading the room is hard.
Eye contact is also something I struggle with. I can’t maintain eye contact for long; it just feels uncomfortable. I also crave familiarity and routine. I’m very much a creature of habit, and changes to my routine, even for necessary appointments, can cause anxiety. I meticulously plan to accommodate these changes. The less notice I have, the more I worry.
This need for familiarity extends to my belongings. I have a hard time parting with things, especially clothing. If I get a new jacket, for example, I wear it constantly, regardless of the weather or occasion. Upcycling old clothes has become a good compromise.
I’m also easily overstimulated by sound. I keep reusable earplugs with me when I’m out and have noise-canceling headphones at home. They make a huge difference.
I could write extensively about the ways my autism manifests, but these are some key examples. I believe that adults, especially women, who are diagnosed later in life are often overlooked. We tend to mask our neurodivergent traits to fit in, especially when we’re expected to be strong for our families or careers. There are many more of us than people realize. I hope that by sharing my story, other women might connect the dots, seek a diagnosis, or at least find healthy coping mechanisms.
