I don't understand how I fell through the cracks

After being told at 20 that I had been diagnosed with ADHD as a young child, I thought I had come full circle to understanding my difference from those around me. However, a meeting with a psychiatrist three years later finally brought me full circle. It turns out I had autism, something that I couldn’t believe professionals around me had missed.

Learning I might be autistic  

Ironically, on World Autism Acceptance Day, my life changed after a half-hour conversation.  

That day, I had stepped into my psychiatrist’s office. I had met the psychiatrist for the first time the previous week, after wanting to reach out to get help with ARFID-related symptoms I had been experiencing for the last few years.  

I wasn’t expecting anything special that day. If anything, I thought I would finally be handed resources and treatment that could prevent my symptoms from reaching their peak again. I didn’t suspect for a second that I would hear anything I didn’t know. If anything, I thought I was going to get referred for occupational therapy.  

Instead, my psychiatrist nervously cracked open the golden egg of big, life-changing news that might come out like a fiery, radiant, roaring phoenix or, in a worst-case scenario, like a post-experiment chicken clumsily crashing onto the floor and choking up a river of tadpoles.  

Autistic. She told me I might be autistic.

Getting diagnosed with autism

My autism diagnosis journey started with shock, mostly the shock of “I was right”. It had been something I had suspected for years, but I thought I was merely trying to pathologise my quirky personality.

Being validated by someone and having a detailed conversation about next steps going forward was bittersweet music to my ears. That afternoon, I filled out the RAADS form made for people whose autism is harder to detect; likely due to masking or because they’re women and we don’t tend to present symptoms the stereotypical, autistic male presents when he’s usually busy talking about all the different trains he likes.

I scored 108 on the RAADS. The test that really stunned me was the CAM-Q, assessing how much an autistic person masks. I got 125; higher than average.

An autism diagnosis – finally

I was officially diagnosed as autistic on 31 July 2025. I took part in an assessment consisting of three sessions. At the beginning of the second session, I was told that the likelihood of being diagnosed was very high. After receiving my autism diagnosis, I felt relieved, but I also felt empty. Then came a wave of anger that it had taken so long for anyone to notice my autistic traits-and take them seriously. I had gone into the assessment thinking that I was going to have to do cartwheels to prove myself, only to be told by my assessor that I had made things ‘really easy’ for her as I had given her so many thorough examples of the autistic symptoms I experienced.

This made it easier for me to fixate on the time passed without being aware of why some of my so-called character flaws had deeper meaning behind them- and perhaps weren’t flaws at all. I thought back to a GP who told me I didn’t seem autistic and was praised for how I articulate myself.  

And then I thought back to the only person, a mental health nurse at my university, who had suspected something during a meltdown of mine she was witnessing. Narrow questionnaires and autism stereotypes stopped me from taking her words further. Overall, I wish that when I told people what she had said to me, they had taken it more seriously.  

Or maybe society still has a long way to go to understand how high-masking, autistic women would still like to know that they’re autistic.

Post diagnosis

Despite my emotional rollercoaster after receiving my diagnosis, I am feeling optimistic about the future and how, with the knowledge I now have, I can use strategies to live a fulfilling life as my authentic autistic self in a very neurotypical world.

About the author

Kearin Green is an autistic writer and has ADHD, based in South East England. She has a BA (Hons) in Film Production and writes her own blog on her Substack. For more of her work, including more detailed accounts of her autism diagnosis experience, you can check out her website and Substack.