Part of The Pieces of Me Series—reflections from my AuDHD journal.
I’m still learning, unlearning, and putting language to my experiences in real time. What I share here reflects what I understand right now—not a final or complete picture.
Over the last year, my life has quietly been rearranging itself.
Not dramatically. Not all at once. But piece by piece.
First came an ADHD diagnosis last year, at 42. Then just three weeks ago, at 43, I received an autism Level 1 diagnosis.
Put them together and you get a term that was completely new to me not long ago: AuDHD—the combination of ADHD and autism.
And honestly?
Everything makes sense now.
Well… most things.
It’s like the haze and smoke are finally clearing from the picture.
And that picture is my life.
It feels like the puzzle pieces of my life are finally starting to fall into place.
Things I once explained away as personality quirks, behaviors, or just “how I am” are starting to make sense through a different lens.
Patterns too! The kind you don’t notice until you step back and see the whole picture.
And while it’s still strange to say out loud, it’s also strangely relieving.
I am AuDHD.
I am autistic.
I have ADHD.
Even writing those words feels surreal.
But here we are.
Everything makes sense now… well, most things.
How This Journey Even Started
What’s funny is that none of this started with ADHD or autism.
It started with perimenopause.
Like many women entering their 40s, I began researching hormonal changes and what they can bring. In that research, I kept coming across something interesting: perimenopause can amplify ADHD symptoms.
That caught my attention.
Then the rabbit hole opened.
While reading more about ADHD, I started noticing overlaps with autism. Traits. Characteristics. Ways of thinking and experiencing the world that felt… familiar.
Around the same time, I was learning more about neurodivergence through assessments happening in my household. Add in a few conversations that got my wheels turning even more, and suddenly I was seeing things I hadn’t considered before.
Eventually curiosity turned into a question.
And that question led to assessments—first for ADHD, and later for autism.
And those assessments led to answers.
Why Seek a Diagnosis in My 40s?
Some people might wonder why someone would pursue an ADHD or autism diagnosis in their 40s.
What’s the point?
For me, the point is actually many things.
Validation.
Understanding.
Clarity.
Access to accommodations I didn’t even realize I might need.
But mostly?
I wanted to understand my life.
If I’m stepping into another forty-plus years of living—Lord willing!—I want to do it with a deeper awareness of how my brain works, how I experience the world, and how to care for myself better along the way.
For me, this wasn’t about labeling.
It was about making sense of the story.
The puzzle pieces of my life are finally starting to make sense.
Looking Back Through a New Lens
When I think back on my childhood and teenage years, certain things stand out differently now.
All those special interests.
Cars and vehicles.
Barbies.
Music.
Baseball.
Blue. Black. Silver.
Sand. Play-Doh.
Then there were the sensory things.
Spinning on merry-go-rounds, carousels, and my parents’ home office chair for what felt like forever.
Jumping on trampolines and playing Hop Scotch.
Tumbling on the floor and the couch.
And climbing. Monkey bars were one of my favorite playground things—even though I also had a mild fear of heights.
Funny how that works.
And water. I love it, yet I also have a fear of deep water, so ya girl ain’t swimming yet!
Just being near it is enough to be magical.
Back in high school, there was a lake about thirty minutes from home that I would drive to just to sit, decompress, think, and be creative, writing poetry, songs, and journaling. Even though it bustled with folks strolling about after eating lunch at one of the busy waterfront restaurants, the water waves’ song mesmerized me. I felt calm.
The Inner Harbor in Baltimore was another place I returned to often as a child and teen. Those weekend trips with my parents were some of my favorites. Pizza, rollerblading, merry-go-round, water, climbing, and that echo-thing-where-someone-speaks-into-it-and-can-be-heard-by-another-person-feet-away. (So fascinating!) What else could an undiagnosed neurodivergent girl want?
Back then, I didn’t think much about any of it.
Now I see it differently.
All those years. All those special interests.
The Rabbit Hole
Since receiving my diagnoses, I’ve been learning about things.
Some of these discoveries have been incredibly validating.
Others have felt like flicking on a light switch.
AHA.
What I’ve Learned So Far
Masking: The lifelong art of pretending everything is fine and that I understand what’s going on while internally buffering like slow Wi-Fi.
Rejection Sensitivity: Whew… talk about a rollercoaster of emotions!
Sensory Differences: The world can be a very loud and very bright place.
Executive functioning: Sometimes my brain says “go,” but my body says, “we’ll circle back… if we remember and are motivated.”
Social Differences and Misunderstandings: Oh, the stories I could tell! Neurotypical folks make it so unnecessarily complicated out there.
Rumination: If only I can stop thinking about that one thing over and over and over and…
Burnout: The sneaky thief of my energy. At one point I basically pulled a Homer Simpson and slowly disappeared into the bushes of group chats, speaking engagements, and social life. More on that later…
When the Push–Pull Finally Made Sense
One of the biggest realizations so far is understanding the constant push–pull I’ve felt inside my brain for most of my life.
Wanting routines… but resisting them at the same time.
Craving quiet… but also stimulation.
Wanting structure… but then feeling boxed in by it.
For years I tried to explain this tension by adjusting the labels I used for myself.
For most of my life, I called myself introverted.
Within the last two years, I upgraded that description to “an extroverted introvert.”
Nope.
AuDHD.
That constant go–stop, go–stop feeling finally has a name.
The Beginning of a New Kind of Discovery
Right now I’m still in the early stages of this journey.
Learning.
Unlearning.
Peeling back layers.
I’m discovering habits I developed to cope—behaviors that helped me navigate spaces that weren’t built with neurodivergence in mind.
And I’m rediscovering parts of myself I didn’t fully understand before.
Parts that were always there.
I’m looking forward to learning more about myself, renewing habits, unlearning behaviors, being more authentic, being kinder to myself, loving myself more, and finding my people.
Because even though it still feels strange to say…
Here I am.
AuDHD.
Still processing.
Still learning.
Still discovering who I’ve always been.
And slowly, piece by piece, the puzzle continues to come together.
Here I am. AuDHD. Still discovering who I’ve always been.
If my experience resonates with you—if you, too, are late-identified with ADHD, autism, or both—I’d love to hear about how knowing has changed or not changed things for you.
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