top of page

When The Answers Change Everything

Writer: Georgia Meredith
Georgia Meredith
Jul 22
3 min read

Updated: Jul 26

The complicated experience of late diagnosis



Historically, the idea of ADHD, autism and neurodivergence in general has been a very narrow one. Often showcasing a limited presentation, which doesn't reflect the full range of ways that neurodivergence can present. Although awareness has spread considerably over the past decade, this is still something that is very present in our experiences. When you don't fit into someone's idea of what autism or ADHD is 'supposed' to look like, it can leave you feeling out of place, misunderstood and confused about yourself.


For many people, the journey towards diagnosis can be long and difficult. The diagnostic process itself can be really gruelling. You may find yourself having to trudge back through some of your darkest experiences, focusing mainly on the challenges and the reasons why you are "different". There can be a lot of focus on what you struggle with.


And then, once you finally have the diagnosis, you are often released back into the world with this life-changing information and a feeling of:


Okay. Now what? What am I meant to do with this?

A diagnosis can bring answers. It can bring relief, validation and a sense of finally understanding yourself. But it can also leave you feeling more isolated and confused than ever. Especially at a time that can already be incredibly vulnerable.


It can feel like your world has cracked open.


The veil has been removed, and all those experiences and moments where you struggled or felt different can suddenly come crashing towards you with a new clarity. You might begin looking back over your life and seeing things differently.


The times you were called too sensitive.

The times you were told you were overreacting.

The things you struggled with that seemed to come so easily to everyone else.

The relationships, experiences and environments that suddenly begin to make more sense.


And sometimes, this new understanding can feel destabilising. You might even find yourself experiencing a regression in skills. Asking yourself:


Why am I struggling with this thing that I used to be able to do?


Your energetic and social baselines might have shifted. Maybe you are no longer able to maintain the same level of masking, pushing through and adapting that you once did. Perhaps the things you were able to do before were coming at a cost that you couldn't fully see at the time.


There can be so many conflicting feelings.


You might feel euphoric to finally have answers. And at the same time, deeply sad. You might grieve for what could have been if you had only had these answers sooner. You might grieve for the child, teenager or adult you were before you had the words to understand yourself.


What can happen is, as you begin to understand yourself differently, you also begin to question who you are.


The masking and altering of yourself. The ignoring or pushing down of your own true needs, your natural instincts and your expression for so long.


All of this can leave you asking:


Who am I?


When you've done this for years, it can cause you to move so far from yourself that you aren't even sure who you are anymore.


What do I like? What are my needs? What feels good to me? What do I actually want?


Your identity can become a sort of wavering thing, as though there is nothing anchoring you, which can feel really destabilising. It can take time to come back to yourself.


Although, maybe it isn't even about coming back to who you were but about connecting with who you are now, with all of these experiences and everything you have learned, and are yet to still learn.

The parts of yourself you have had to hide, suppress or adapt. With the parts you may not even know yet.


Instead of trying to force yourself into a life that was never made for you, what might happen if you began creating a life that fits you? A sustainable life that really works for you, that takes your needs seriously. Where your energy, capacity, sensory experiences, relationships, interests and joy have room to exist.


A life that isn't built around how much you can endure.


This is where having space to slow down and reflect can become so important.


What might happen if you had someone who was genuinely curious to know all the little intricacies about you? Some that you don't even know yet. Someone to be there as you sift through all these experiences and memories and make sense of things. To ask questions, to notice, to be curious alongside you, to not be alone.


Because a diagnosis is not the end of your journey towards understanding yourself but, in many ways, it is the beginning.



 
 
bottom of page