For as long as I can remember, I knew I was different. I knew I was seeing and processing things differently than others around me. I didn’t feel understood, just as much as I didn’t understand my peers. I had no lexicon for the dissonance, so I buried the feeling beneath a mask I crafted from mimicking others. I had hoped that by the time I graduated high school and entered college, I’d have a better handle on who I was and where I fit in. I encountered no such luck. It never even occurred to me that I could be on the spectrum. I don’t think I even knew what it really meant at the time, and the thought of a lifelong label was scary to me. But as life got more complicated, so did the impact my neurodivergence was having on my life. There wasn’t any other option but to face the elephant in the room and pursue therapy.
Being given the word autism was not enough to provide clarity. I found myself learning more through reading posts online, connecting with others in the community both virtually and in person. I worked on thought processes and actions in cognitive behavioral therapy to shape the skills that I lacked and sharpened the skills that I have. I learned my success would look different than what I had originally thought. And I learned to be okay with that. It took some time seeing as I had to undo years of thinking after being diagnosed late in life, but life isn't a race. Whether you were diagnosed earlier or later in life, you’re valid, and you will find your own way.
~Anonymous Writer
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