Permission to be Autistic

For those diagnosed in adulthood, it can be daunting to accept what a diagnosis means. It may:

  • Provide much needed answers and come as a relief;
  • Provide as many questions as answers;
  • Give permission or start the journey to allow yourself to be autistic (accepting yourself). This may mean that pretending to act in a ‘neurotypical‘ way is no longer needed.

If you were diagnosed as adult, did this lead to acceptance? Did acceptance give you an improved outlook? Autistic people face enormous challenges daily however, I wanted to start a discussion around how acceptable can be empowering amongst these struggles.

Parents
  • I have not been officially diagnosed as an adult, neither am I seeking an official diagnosis, though once a counsellor told me when it first came up 'It would never have hurt you so much if there wasn't some truth to it.' And yes, he could see 'it'in me, he said. 

    I had plenty of diagnoses as a child, but it was seen as craziness then. At least my mother found out I was far from mentally subnormal (ugh!) when I got an IQ evaluation with my first educational psychologist. 

    It all got rehashed again, after questions were being asked about another family member in the 90's. The literature, however, really made me feel despair and self-loathing, as too much of it harped on about the empathy thing. I also felt my family was starting to call my whole lifestyle into question. Eventually a huge row and a rift of two/three years opened up. 

    I really don't care now. I don't want to be defined by it, nor any other kind of difficulty, it is not globally "me,' though 'it' whatever it was did cast a long shadow over my life. 

    I got a lot of flak for not making enough eye contact, but I wouldn't take such criticisms on board now. I really needed to understand what this was about most when younger, but it is past such considerations now. 

Reply
  • I have not been officially diagnosed as an adult, neither am I seeking an official diagnosis, though once a counsellor told me when it first came up 'It would never have hurt you so much if there wasn't some truth to it.' And yes, he could see 'it'in me, he said. 

    I had plenty of diagnoses as a child, but it was seen as craziness then. At least my mother found out I was far from mentally subnormal (ugh!) when I got an IQ evaluation with my first educational psychologist. 

    It all got rehashed again, after questions were being asked about another family member in the 90's. The literature, however, really made me feel despair and self-loathing, as too much of it harped on about the empathy thing. I also felt my family was starting to call my whole lifestyle into question. Eventually a huge row and a rift of two/three years opened up. 

    I really don't care now. I don't want to be defined by it, nor any other kind of difficulty, it is not globally "me,' though 'it' whatever it was did cast a long shadow over my life. 

    I got a lot of flak for not making enough eye contact, but I wouldn't take such criticisms on board now. I really needed to understand what this was about most when younger, but it is past such considerations now. 

Children
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