Warning: Unedited gibberish incoming!

I never thought I’d be writing the word “diagnosis” while feeling something positive towards it, but here we are. I am not sure what I’m feeling really, but I thought it would be a good idea to write about it, and why not resurrect my wilting blog while I’m at it?

I have been wondering for about two years whether I might be autistic. I had a vague subconscious wondering before that, when thinking about some similarities between me and autistic people I knew. But what really made me start thinking about it was starting a new job. I had a complete career change and have been out of my comfort zone ever since, and that has highlighted for me what is and isn’t within my comfort zone. I realised that I am much happier in structured rather than unstructured settings. So while, for example, I can give a presentation to a group of people (which has taken me years to get to and I’ll still be nervous about), I can’t go up to someone I don’t know and start a conversation. If I have a role and know exactly what I need to do, and I have complete control over it all, I’m not too bad. Put me in a networking situation or social gathering with people who aren’t in my close circle, and I’m anxious and useless. The more new situations I have been exposed to in the last year or so, the more apparent this has become. So that made me think a bit more about whether I might be autistic.

While all of that has been going on, I’ve been seeing more content on social media from autistic people. Some of it I relate to very well, which again, made me wonder. Some of it I don’t relate to at all, so I’ve been bouncing around between thinking I could well be autistic and deciding that of course I’m not, don’t be silly. It’s a complete minefield. I did some online tests like the AQ-50, which placed me pretty borderline so didn’t help much. I began watching videos, listening to podcasts, joining Facebook and Reddit groups and following people on Instagram. Some weeks I felt so consumed with the idea and the desire to know one way or another, that I found it hard to concentrate on anything else. It was one of these weeks when I decided I wanted to pursue an assessment.

I had an initial screening call with a private practice that specialises in autism in women, and after a bit of a chat they said I did show some indicators and it was worth exploring further. So I booked my assessment with them and I had it last week. It felt very vulnerable, and I didn’t know what the conclusion would be. I’d had to get my parents involved to answer a couple of questionnaires, which I had been hoping to avoid because I didn’t want to get anyone else involved – I wasn’t ready to tell anyone my suspicions for fear of being invalidated. In the few days I’ve been waiting to hear back, I’ve been so uncertain whether they would say I’m autistic or not. Throughout the whole experience it’s been difficult thinking that maybe I would be told I’m wrong, I don’t know myself at all, of course I’m not autistic, what on earth was I thinking. But the email came through this morning and it said that I do meet the criteria for autism.

I have a feedback meeting in ten days to discuss things in more depth, so for now I am processing and writing. I wasn’t sure how I felt when I read the email. I was surprised. Even though I had been wondering for two years, imposter syndrome was always setting in and I was surprised I had actually been right about something. That I’d seen something that I – and nobody else – had seen for 37 years of my life. I feel validated. And relieved. I remembered something I saw someone say a little while ago – it’s good to know that I’m a normal zebra, not a weird horse. Then I looked down and realised I am wearing a black and white stripey jumper today and do actually look like a zebra! I am not a weird horse. All those times people made me feel like there was something wrong with me for being so quiet and whatever else, there was nothing wrong with me at all. I’m just different to them, and being autistic explains why.

It still feels very weird to say that I’m autistic. I’m autistic. I’m sorry reader, that you are here being subjected to my ramblings as I process this! It’s nice to have you here anyway. It will be very interesting to see what is said at my feedback meeting. I wonder if it was an obvious conclusion or all a bit uncertain and borderline. I wonder how much this will change things, how much it will change how I feel about myself. I feel very close to myself, if that makes any sense. Sympathetic towards myself, protective perhaps? Proud of myself for being right and seeing it all through? More like myself already? Is that possible?

I wonder what people’s reactions will be. There is so much to think about. There has been so much I wanted to repost on social media or reply to but didn’t because I didn’t have anything official yet. I can do all of that now. I can update my bio if I want to. I can find out in my feedback session I there are accommodations I should request at work or university or anywhere else. I can equip my Finch bird with an autism pride flag! But for now, I can continue to think and process and sit with it, and that’s all just for me.