Why Your Late-in-Life Autism Diagnosis (Doesn’t) Matters
It won’t change your life…

I know your story, my friend. I have seen it a couple of times now and, I should add, it’s what happened to me too. I can sense you have a few questions.
For example, how is it possible to walk on planet Earth for over 30 years and not understand the most fundamental stuff about yourself? Not only that, when you look at your peers, you feel a complete disconnection. You just don’t speak their language. You don’t know what set of rules to follow. You watch people interact but don’t understand what’s going on. When you talk, people interchange glances; they might even let out little smiles. From time to time, some of them might accidentally reveal the nicknames they have for you, clever monikers such as “Poet Girl” or “She-Nerd.”
The message you get from everybody, even teachers, is that you are a bit peculiar. Others will cut the crap, and straight-up tell you don’t belong there, here…anywhere.
That’s how the rest of your life goes. You know you don’t belong to any particular group. You manage to have a few friends along the way, but only because they happened to be in your class and you did school work together. Once school is over, you find yourself unable to keep talking to them. You have no idea what to tell them.
You manage to finish school. In fact, you do really well. Your tendency to read and then spew up your knowledge ends up working in your favor. Eventually, you get a job, a partner, and even have a child.
Then, life pauses and yells, “plot twist!”
Surprise
A couple of years after your child is born, you notice he is not reaching the uber-famous developmental goals. You know he should be talking by now or, at the very least, mumbling a few words, but he isn’t. Still, he communicates. He points at stuff, grabs you by the hand, and takes you to what he wants. Also, it is clear he understands every word you say; you can perceive his reactions, his emotions all over his face.
You go to a couple of specialists, and they tell you, “Ma’am, your son is autistic. You better get to work with him, or he won’t make it.”
This terrifies you, so you invest lots of time and money to give him all of the therapy he requires. Soon you learn the goal is to make him look/sound/behave like a “normal” person. The therapists have charts in which they track his progress. They have long lists of stuff he must not do.
Eventually, you realize: they are training him to repress his actual personality. Sometimes, therapy is so intense he cries and bawls. That’s when it hits you; yes, your child can speak now, but he is in pain. You question the therapists about this, but they ask you again, “don’t you want him to make it? This is what it will take.”
Then, on one good day, a specialist takes a look at you, at your behavior, the way you move your hands and your eyes, the things you say, and what you keep to yourself. “You are aware you are autistic too, aren’t you?”
You don’t know what to say.
You do some research. Oh, my! You find out about the huge debt doctors, psychologists, therapists, and so on, have with women like you.
They have preferred to assume autistic women don’t exist….
However, when you read what other autistic women have to say, suddenly, EVERYTHING makes sense. Of course, of course, how come I never noticed before? There are so many who, just like you, found out only because their child was diagnosed. Without that happy coincidence, they would have lived their entire lives in ignorance.
So What?
Great, now you know the truth about yourself. Does it matter? Does it make a difference? You lived your entire life not knowing, does this tiny piece of information change anything?
You know the answer, of course: it doesn’t.
This diagnosis changes nothing, except for everything. It doesn’t change YOU. You will forever be the same person. It does, however, change the way you look at yourself in the mirror.
You used to look at your little quirks and needs and deem them as unusual or strange. You tried to change them, avoid them altogether. You didn’t want to look abnormal.
Well, guess what, sugar? You are neuroatypical. There’s no point in trying to fit into a disguise. Hasn’t that already brought enough suffering to you? Isn’t this bringing lots of pain into your child’s life?
Yes, it is essential to understand all the nuances of the social contract, to learn to be kind and polite…but to let it kill your very soul seems like overdoing it.
You take your child out of that environment. You are grateful for the help and for the lessons it provided, but this therapy has taken a sickening twist.
Nothing is worth your child’s tears.
Then, you make an effort to be more compassionate toward yourself. Also, you stop looking at your specific needs as burdens and, instead, fully embrace them. The strategies everyone else uses to cope won’t work for you, and forcing yourself to fit in only brings misery. You have to find methods of your own.
So, do other people do small talk to mingle? You don’t have to do that; it’s okay to be quiet. Do you need two weighted blankets so you can fall asleep? Please, go ahead, don’t let judgemental comments keep you from a restful night.
Do what you need to do to feel whole. As long as you don’t step into other people’s boundaries, you will be okay. Yes, there will be those who will call you weird again…but, tell me, do they matter?
This new information you have acquired is not of great relevance: you are still you. However, this knowledge will transform the way you treat yourself, the words you speak to your heart, and the kindness you direct at your soul.
No, this won’t change you. Yes, it will change everything else. Are we clear now, dear? Good, now, please, go live your life the way you need. You can now look at the mirror and smile.






