Last year, I was clinically diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome, which falls under the broader diagnosis of Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD). It was a breakthrough moment for me. This pervasive developmental disorder was the missing puzzle piece that finally explained years of struggling with depression, anxiety, burnout, and numerous mental health challenges.
Before my diagnosis, I navigated daily life without fully understanding my discomforts and triggers. Yet, autism, and the struggles that came with it, was always present. I would wake up much earlier than necessary, arriving at work before the chaos began to enjoy the quiet. I sought out dark rooms and silent spaces for relief. I ate the same foods for days, hummed to self-soothe, and often journaled about feeling like a misfit. My rigid, justice-oriented thinking felt at odds with the world around me. Spontaneous conversations felt like complex puzzles, small talk exhausted me, and I often second-guessed whether I was reacting “appropriately” in social situations. But instead of recognizing these as autistic traits, I blamed myself for not excelling at things that seemed effortless for neurotypicals.
Since my diagnosis and increased self-awareness, I’ve begun to notice so much more around me. I am more present in my daily life and more attuned to my needs. Previously, I resisted my intuition,if something felt wrong but I couldn’t logically explain why, I forced myself to push through, simply because others seemed to manage without discomfort. No wonder I was always exhausted.
Now, I no longer resist or just cope, I acknowledge my discomfort and adapt my environment to meet my needs when I have the energy. When I don’t have the energy, I choose to remove myself from the situation. I’ve started advocating for myself by communicating my needs to friends, family, and colleagues. And as I do this, I’ve realized just how sensitive I am to things I never consciously noticed before like the ticking of a clock, the scent of flowers, the feeling of personal space being invaded. Slowly, I am unmasking, bit by bit.
With the mask off, my experiences are more vivid.
Instead of being an overly controlling, rigid person who suppressed my needs for fear of discomfort, I am choosing environments that align with my nervous system and neurodivergent wiring.
This shift has been monumental, so much so that people around me have started noticing it. Unfortunately, many, including close friends and family, have little understanding of ASD. To them, it’s just a “first-world” concept, not something that can be classified as a disorder, let alone a life-altering condition. Without hesitation, they remind me of my past achievements, guilt-tripping me into working with the same intensity. They dismiss my burnout, calling it a “normal” kind of tiredness. They trivialize my diagnosis by saying, “You don’t look autistic,” or that “everyone struggles in some way.”
Sometimes, I give in to the guilt. But more often than not, I hold my ground. The emotional effort it takes to do so is immense, filling me with resentment and anger, feelings I know I’ll need to process eventually. But despite all this, I am living an authentic life as an autistic woman.
Only when I fully embraced my identity did I begin to experience the world as it truly is. I am clearer about my boundaries, my non-negotiables, and the things I will and won’t tolerate. I am learning to indulge in life more, despite my fears and limitations. And a formal diagnosis has definitely helped me to improve the quality of life.
Oh, what joy it is to simply exist as you are.
I would love to hear from you, leave a comment. Have a good day!
Read more on nuerodivergence in my personal blog section.
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