As my phone rang, I noticed it had no caller ID. My heart raced, my throat tightened, and I felt paralyzed. This was the moment I had been waiting for. Why now? I answered, and a woman from the assessment clinic informed me that my report was ready. Blood rushed from my legs to my head as I stood on a bustling street, just after stepping off the train from work.
“Do you want to hear the outcome over the phone?” she asked. Without thinking, I agreed, ignoring the crowd around me. She delivered the news: I had Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD). Tears streamed down my face.
When she asked how I felt, I could barely find my voice. “Shocked,” I managed to say, even though relief washed over me. I had longed to hear those words for what felt like forever.
Once our conversation ended, I quickly checked my emails. The report began with a brief background and, right on the first page, confirmed I was autistic. I stood there, tears falling, trying to absorb this revelation.
Growing Up as an Outsider
Growing up, I always felt like an outsider. With brothers around, I thought my differences stemmed from being the only girl. It was as if I were watching a complex play where everyone else knew their lines, while I struggled to understand the script. I felt intense loneliness, despite having a loving family and one friend—a boy who shared my childhood. We spent hours lining up toy cars, but school was another story. The girls sensed my differences, leading to mental and physical bullying. Isolation deepened, and by high school, I was filled with confusion and anger. What was wrong with me?
There, I learned to mask my true self. Each day, I’d come home emotionally drained. My academic performance plummeted as I was consumed by the exhausting task of fitting in. I dedicated myself to understanding social cues, body language, and facial expressions, becoming adept at navigating social situations. I envied how easily my brothers made friends, wishing I could solve the mystery of connection.
By 14, I had formed a large group of friends, a testament to my hard work. I rarely returned home, fearing that the cracks in my facade would show. I believed I was safe from myself, but internalizing my emotions caused significant damage to my mental health. I fought with peers, abandoned my education, and watched friends experiment with relationships that left me feeling hollow.
I faced labels like neurotic, aggressive, and cold. I wish someone had reached out to me during that turbulent time; perhaps things would have been different. My parents supported me, but when I was 15, they sent me to a therapist who struggled to connect with me. I told her what I thought she wanted to hear, keeping my true feelings hidden behind my mask.
Finding My Path
I left school at 16 and attempted college but dropped out after a few months. Maintaining friendships became daunting, and I lost touch with most of my peers, except for one who remains by my side today. At 17, I found a job that gave me structure, but I still felt like an outsider.
In that same year, I met my husband, a tall, dark figure with a soothing voice that calmed my racing mind. He has stood by me through the highs and lows, seeing the real me. Despite this support, my mental health spiraled as I became a mother in 2008. I isolated myself further and was diagnosed with depression, anxiety, and OCD. Therapy didn’t help, and medication left me feeling like a zombie.
By 2012, I welcomed my daughter into the world, but my anxiety worsened. I sought help, feeling like a burden to my family. A new therapist encouraged me to be myself, and I began to peel back the layers I had built up over the years. I started exercising to combat my anxiety, though the gym’s noise often overwhelmed me.
Recognizing My Autism
In 2016, my brother received an ASD diagnosis. As our family learned about autism, I began recognizing traits in myself—my aversion to change, sensory issues, and social struggles. I dismissed these similarities, believing I couldn’t possibly be autistic since I didn’t fit the typical mold shown in literature, which often focused on boys.
Two years later, panic attacks plagued my daily life, and I struggled to maintain employment. By 2018, feeling utterly overwhelmed, I confided in my doctor about my struggles and asked for an autism assessment. I finally found resources discussing autism in women, realizing my experiences were valid.
After months of assessments, I awaited the results, terrified yet hopeful. I had taken a second job as a Workplace Assessor for an autism charity, helping others navigate their own challenges. This experience became a beacon of light in my journey.
A Journey of Self-Realization
Ultimately, uncovering my autism was a revelation that reshaped my understanding of myself. It wasn’t just about labels; it was about finally acknowledging who I am and allowing myself to be authentic. For anyone on a similar journey, know you’re not alone.
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In summary, discovering my autism post-marriage and children was a profound journey of self-realization, filled with challenges but ultimately leading to acceptance and understanding. Embracing who I am has allowed me to find support and understanding in my relationships.
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