Finally Making Sense of It All: The Journey of a Late-Diagnosed Neurodivergent Adult

Hello...I am Jade, a Consultant Dietitian and Specialist Neurodivergence Coach. Welcome, this is my blog 'JLM Insights; Finding My Neurodivergent Voice'.

I know how precious your time is, so thank you for sitting with me for a minute. Know that you can join me anytime in my cosy corner of the internet where you don’t need permission to show up as anything other than your beautiful, authentic self.

Wow, I can't believe it. As I enter my fifth decade on this planet, I am in awe of the journey I have been on.

If I could step back into the 80s and tell my younger self, "In the future, you are going to meet a young woman who you are going to be incredibly proud of, someone worthy, powerful, beautiful, strong, compassionate, resilient, and authentic," I wouldn't have believed for a second that that young woman would be me.

That younger version of me was living on someone else’s terms, with no idea who her authentic self was. Her real identity was hidden under a thick layer of expectations, opinions, and judgments that were never her own.

Little did I know I would finally discover I was autistic as an adult at the age of 38. It was a moment of profound clarity and intense confusion all at once. It didn't feel real. I almost went numb, coming out of my body and looking down on myself as if it was happening to someone else. The voice of imposter syndrome kicked in immediately, whispering, “Surely not. Maybe you’re just weird. Maybe they got it wrong. Maybe you’re lying. Maybe you aren’t all those things you put on the assessment forms.”

The Aftermath: The Weight of a New Reality

That imposter syndrome was further reinforced by the fear of telling anyone. I felt an almost immediate sense of shame, and there are still friends and colleagues I haven't told even now, two years on. I often feel like a fraud for hiding it for so long, and a liar for not being "obviously" neurodivergent.

I heard the voices of others, real or imagined, saying things like, "Well, you don't look autistic," or "You don't seem autistic. Are you sure?" Those doubts only reinforced my own questioning.

People have questioned why someone would 'bother' with an assessment at a later stage in life or why they would want a ‘label’, saying invalidating things like ‘well aren’t we all on the spectrum’ or ‘aren’t we all a little bit autistic’. But for me, that couldn’t be further from the truth. It wasn’t a label; it was the key that unlocked a new, deep, and profound understanding of my entire life. It’s the permission slip I never knew I needed to go back and review my whole life through a new, compassionate lens, and to let go of what was never truly mine in the first place.

The Past: A Mosaic of Mismatched Pieces

Living life on someone else’s terms is a profoundly lonely experience. You end up hating yourself because the person you are on the outside doesn’t match who you are on the inside, leaving you feeling like a fraud.

You grow to resent a version of yourself that only ever existed in other people’s minds, creating a painful, disjointed feeling of questioning whether you are hating yourself or hating the person they think you are and expect you to be. And to make it all even harder, you end up hating yourself for making life choices and decisions you never wanted to make in the first place, that do not align with your core values.

Before my diagnosis, I was a mosaic of mismatched pieces of beautiful pottery. Over the years I have been smashed into pieces, I had then taken all the opinions and judgments of others and stuck them together with cheap sellotape, hoping they would stick and make a beautiful valuable vase.

My inner beauty was never going to shine when I had silenced my intuition and pushed down my own internal alarm bells, convincing myself that something was wrong with me, not them. I shrunk myself to feel small and less than, and I wore a smile accompanied by a surface-level laugh, all while dying inside. The fatigue from that constant masking was overwhelming.

My younger self, who was so misunderstood, deserved better. However, with this new neurodivergent discovery and understanding, I could finally go back and nurture and console those younger versions of myself who felt so lost and alone. I could forgive her for decisions she made at the time that harmed her physical and mental well-being, because she was just a young woman who didn’t know how to be, what to do, or how to understand other people or the many confusing feelings inside.

The Present: Embracing Authenticity

Now, I can honestly say I feel completely free to be my authentic self. This freedom isn't a destination; it’s an ongoing, beautiful journey that I am still learning how to navigate.

For most of my life, I was seen as cold, distant, and unloving. People regularly told me I would never have kids or pets because I didn’t have the qualities required to give love or care. And when you are given the same message time and time again, it becomes a core belief that extends far beyond being incapable of giving love but also being incapable of receiving it.

But since having my son at the age of 31 and getting our first puppy at 39, I realised that what I actually needed was pure, uncomplicated, authentic love and acceptance. It’s the kind you get from a child or a puppy when they look at you and you are their whole world, an unconditional love that is very rare to find in another human being.

Once I discovered this new type of love and realised it was safe to give and receive love, I started to rebuild myself, piece by piece, and I realised that the person I was and who I am now is a beautiful and complete masterpiece of my own design.

Now of course we know life isn’t all sunshine, rainbows and skipping off into the sunset.

Despite this newfound freedom, living authentically has meant I have had to close the door on long held friendships and relationships (including family) that no longer embrace this new found authentic version of myself.

I find it incredibly hard to discuss my challenges and differences, in particular asking others for help. My high-performing perfectionism and anxiety leave me exhausted. I present this air of having it all together, but people often don’t see everything that goes on behind the scenes to meet that deadline or to achieve that goal.

I have a long history of needing to prove my worth through the things I do and achieve, and I have a habit of abandoning my own needs for others. This is a pattern which has led to cycles of burnout, which I am slowly unlearning and, in this process, I am creating and embracing new ways of being that honor my true self.

I also find it hard to say no and to challenge someone in a position of authority, especially about a topic I am very passionate about and that means something to me. I often have to take a pause to gather the strength to come back with a firm no or a reasoned explanation.

But I've also discovered things that are true to me. I am actually an introvert, I have to choose who I spend time with very careful to protect my energy, and I now have a major JOMO (Joy of Missing Out), as there is nothing I enjoy more than being at home or surrounded by my people who I can truly be myself with. I now live a life of abundance; quality over quantity.

A New Beginning

The journey from a place of self-hatred to self-love has been transformative. It can feel like I'm entering my forties, a decade or two behind other people's timelines, but that is the beauty of it...it’s MY timeline and no longer someone else's.

I have my whole life to figure these things out. I honestly wouldn't have it any other way, as I wouldn't be the person I am today if I hadn't navigated the many challenges and triumphs of this perfectly imperfect journey of mine.

There has been a physical, mental, and spiritual shedding of layers of others' opinion, judgment, shame, and expectation, and a metamorphosis into a place of authenticity, acceptance, resilience, peace, and freedom.

I feel like I have finally been able to shed that final layer, letting go of that which no longer serves me and that which was never mine in the first place. And that is has been the beauty of of my diagnosis and discovering my neurodivergent voice. 

So, on that note, I would love to know what's the one thing you've finally given yourself permission to let go of?