April is Autism Awareness Month: Jeffrey's Story
Hi, my name is Jeffrey and I am a Registered Social Worker with a Bachelor’s of Social Work Degree. I was recently diagnosed with autism, but I have been in the process of assessment for almost four years.
As an adult diagnosed with autism this late in life I felt it was important to write something about what I’ve gone through, some of the things I’ve heard, and to shed light on what this process has felt like. I am writing this as somebody who did not think it would be possible to receive this diagnosis this late in life—or to join this community in a meaningful way.
Something really important to me that I want people to understand is that although it has been a huge relief to receive a physical document stating that I have autism, community diagnosis and self-diagnosis are valid. It is almost impossible for someone who is an adult coming to this realization later in life, through their symptoms and their own research, to not have been either community- or self-diagnosed first. In fact, it’s nearly impossible unless a doctor identifies it independently during an interaction. Coming to your doctor with the realization that you might be on the spectrum is usually the only way to begin this process. There isn’t a natural system in our society where adults are routinely assessed for autism later in life without initiating it themselves. I say this because there is a stigma right now around self-diagnosis—the idea that someone watches a TikTok and suddenly decides they have this very complex neurological profile.
From my experience, I have never met anyone who hasn’t done years of research. I myself have read an enormous number of academic publications on autism—full research papers, studies, and clinical documents. Thousands of pages. I am one of the ironic autistic people who has hyperfixated on autism itself. I was first diagnosed with ADHD, and it was that psychiatrist who pointed out that there were “additional symptoms.” At the time, I wasn’t interested in pursuing that further, because even receiving an ADHD diagnosis required years of assessments, interviews, and uncomfortable medical processes.
Long story short, yes, I was community-diagnosed. I had a group of autistic individuals tell me that I was likely autistic.
“I didn’t realize I had been living within the spectrum—I thought this was simply what life was like for everyone.”
I was confused at first because I didn’t understand how that fit me. As I began to look into the traits, the experiences, and the neurological patterns, I found myself asking the question, “Am I Autistic?” As I dug deeper, I began to recognize that I did have cognitive differences.
Something I am still processing is my internalized ableism.
What does it mean to be autistic and disabled?
Receiving a diagnosis is not something that only affects me going forwards—it reflects my entire life experience. It reshapes how I understand myself, my identity, and my experiences. The diagnosis leads you to reconsider so many things: how you adapted to help others feel comfortable, your challenges with social cues and hierarchies, and your experiences in work and relationships.
“What is perceived as rigidity is often an attempt to find stability and safety within systems that feel unclear or unpredictable.”
My research supports my belief that autistic people can be deeply empathetic, but may not engage in surface-level or socially scripted interactions. We often seek deeper, more meaningful connection.
So, this Autism Awareness Month, I encourage you to lead with curiosity, respect, and compassion. Although it may seem hard in some moments—wondering about a social interaction, a moment you’ve unmasked for the first time, or in a moment of spiral thinking—just know that you’re not alone. Things are getting clearer and better. You are worthy of love and respect and the accommodations you need in your everyday life to be whichever version of yourself that feels the most right to you.
Learn more about Jeffrey!
