Another late diagnosis story - neurodiversity as a female leader in the built environment consulting space.

20 June

I have previously written about neurodiversity and the built environment here. Little did I know when I wrote that piece, that about 9 months later, I myself would be diagnosed with neurodiversity in the form of autism (level 1) and ADHD (attention deficit hyperactivity disorder - inattentive).

While I will continue to write about the HOW (how we in the built environment can better design and accommodate neurodiversity)…. I wanted to share a little of my WHY, by getting a little personal. So, if you are here for my personal journey, then grab a cup of tea and settle in. If you’d rather skip the personal and get to the HOW, the link above is a start, and subscribe to my newsletter at the bottom of this page for more resources to come over the next few months.

It all started on a run… as many good things do

I was out on a morning run a couple of months ago when one of my friends mentioned a podcast she’d listened to where Fern Brady was talking about the issues she had socialising as someone with autism - things like how she overthought all the smallest conversations in the office and how exhausting it was on a daily basis. This friend mentioned how hard it must be for people who have autism, sympathising with the experience. I remember thinking… that’s me. Everything you’re relating is me. That’s how exhausted *I am* every time I front up to socialise in large groups, that’s how much I overthink things, that’s how I plan going to social occasions, how I plan my escapes, that’s how much I need to go and hibernate after a day with people - and I said so, laughing nervously before quickly moving onto whatever the next topic of conversation was.

I went home that morning and did an online screening test for autism as I ate my breakfast. I went through, gave a bunch of answers, thought I must be pretty middle of the road - some quirks and sensory sensitivities (I don’t like bright lights, can’t stand noisy cafes or multiple conversations in one room, strong smells set my whole system off… things like that), but surely not enough there for a diagnosis. But, I pressed submit, saw the result and was stunned. I met the cut-off score and further assessment was warranted.

I then, curious, downloaded the podcast mentioned by my running friend and I listened to it. As I listened, it dawned on me - Fern Brady was describing me and my experience. As in, it could have been me talking her words. (Recommended listen by the way, via @theimperfects podcast - autistic in a non-autistic world).

Uneasy feelings and a professional diagnosis

I couldn’t quite process it, nor can I describe the feeling that followed, right in the gut but also squeezing the chest in. I told my husband with some level of disbelief - “um, so I did this screening test… it, hmmm, how do I put this…it says I should get tested for autism?”.

I read more (i.e I did a total deep-dive… full depth, full breadth at lightening pace… to the exclusion of all else) something I tend to do when I’m deeply interested in something), and realised so, so many of my patterns in life fitted the autism box. I teared up. I realised there was something there, a path I needed to explore.

And so began the journey.

I decided I wanted testing for autism, and given a strong family history, decided to test for ADHD as well. I’d done screening for ADHD before, but any results were very borderline and it had never quite twigged as the full picture and I’d dismissed it. I really only tested for ADHD as I thought I may as well… it wasn’t a lot extra $$ on top of the testing for autism.

I found a wonderful, neuroaffirming psychologist who did my assessment. The assessment itself included multiple questionnaires for both autism and ADHD filled in by me and two people close to me, alongside a clinical interview. The wait to be seen wasn’t too long really, I think about 4 weeks, and then another few weeks to get the report.

Long story short - I got my diagnosis this week - it is confirmed that I am autistic and have ADHD (inattentive type). At 43 years old.

And suddenly, my life makes sense.

And now I look, I don’t know how I missed it. How I’ve lived my life to date not realising or being aware of my neurodiversity. My overcompensation, overachievement, and perfectionism. And as someone who reads patterns and prides myself on understanding others… I missed it in myself. Weird.

I’m still beginning this journey. It’s new. In some ways, I’m just the same as I was. Actually, in all the ways. But I have a deeper level of self awareness and more importantly, self compassion.

The impact of masking

I want to share my journey to raise awareness of the experience of late diagnosed autistic and ADHD women. And to provide something of a platform for the daily, silent struggle of blending in and overachievement. And, selfishly, I want to share it for my sake - so I can be me, and be known as the me that I see on the inside.

I’m aware that maybe to many people I don’t “look” or even “seem” like someone who has autism and/or ADHD. In fact, one of the tests I did confirmed that I was up the top end of the scale when it comes to camoflauging behaviours.

And I can also tell what a “good job” I’ve done hiding my neurodiversity by the mixed reactions from friends and families when I’ve shared the diagnosis with those close to me. I understand that reaction as I think I have mastered the art of being who I need to be in any given context. But I can tell you without hesitation that the struggle is real, and daily, and exhausting, and simply too much at times.

It is incredibly daunting for me to be open about my diagnosis. ADHD is increasingly being accepted in society, though there are still judgements to be made there about productivity, concentration, deadlines (and oh how I overcompensate for all of those things!). Autism is a whole other thing to share though - given less awareness and dare I say it, acceptance. And as someone who has built a career on my social skills, analysis of people and populations, engaging with people and with understanding how communities and societies work, I am not sure how family, friends and especially colleagues will respond.

I know that a large part of what makes me good at my job is my autism - how I see patterns, how I quickly analyse things and piece them together, how I can see multiple solutions and am sensitive to detail - but I desperately hope others will see these things too.

Using my diagnosis for advocacy in the built environment

So there you have it. Vulnerability and authenticity in where I am at.

And what’s more, I plan to use it for good.

I will continue to advocate in the built environment space for those less heard, including the neurodivergent population
I will be providing stakeholder engagement services that are better suited to neurodivergence and sensory sensitivities.
I will be providing advice in the built environment on built form that caters more specifically to the needs of the neurodivergent population.
I am available to consult with workplaces and give presentations and advice on providing better spaces and services for staff with neurodivergence.

That’s all I’ve got for now; but here is to unmasking, being vulnerable and deeply authentic, and having greater compassion for what others are going through. And moreover, here’s to a world where inclusion is the new norm.

If you have any questions about anything I have written above, please feel free to reach out. I am happy to chat more and dispel some myths around AuDHD (though I am but one.. and as they say, when you have met one AuDHD person, you have met one AuDHD person - we are all unique in our experiences and challenges in the world.)

Below are a few images below of a range of ways an AuDHD woman can look that you might not expect - from work to ultramarathon running to friends to relationships. I’m still all of these things :)