A Blog for Autistic and ADHD Women

Finding Ourselves in the Story

This space is where I share stories for late-diagnosed Autistic women who are looking to understand themselves more clearly. Whether you’ve received a formal diagnosis, self-identify as Autistic, or are just beginning to wonder about your neurodivergence in midlife or beyond, I hope you’ll find something here that resonates.

I write about masking, identity, relationships, sensory experiences, self-discovery and the many ways autism can shape our lives in ways we may not have recognized for years.

For many of us, growing up meant moving through the world without a reflection. We didn’t see ourselves in the diagnostic criteria, in the media, or in the stories being told about autism. What we did see often felt nothing like us. Without that mirror, the possibility that we might be Autistic rarely crossed our minds. Instead, many of us came to believe we were broken, failing, too much, not enough, or somehow fundamentally different in ways we couldn’t explain.

Living without reflection takes a toll. It can shape how we see ourselves, bury our truth beneath years of adaptation, and leave us carrying shame that was never ours to carry in the first place.

This is why reflection matters. This is why stories matter.

Sometimes finding yourself in someone else’s words can be the beginning of finding yourself. A single story can offer language for experiences you’ve never been able to explain, help make sense of a lifetime of questions, or remind you that you are not alone.

My hope is that as you read, you may recognize pieces of your own story here or perhaps begin to see yourself in ways you never had the opportunity to before.

When a Story Finds You

If something in my writing resonates with you, I hope you’ll consider sharing it. Sometimes a story finds its way to the person who needs it most, helping them feel less alone and offering language for experiences they may have struggled to understand or name.

My hope is that these reflections help people see themselves more clearly, feel understood, and reconnect with parts of themselves that may have been hidden, silenced, or folded away in the effort to survive, adapt and belong.

I also share this work as a way of contributing beyond the therapy room. Writing has become one of the ways I participate in advocacysupporting greater recognition, understanding and inclusion for later-identified neurodivergent people.

More broadly, I hope these stories contribute, in some small way, to the cultural shifts that are still needed so that neurodivergent lives are fully recognized, respected, valued, supported and resourced. I believe that stories have the power not only to help us understand ourselves, but also to help change the way we understand one another.