What Is the Point of an Autism Diagnosis?

I have written before that I wouldn’t push an autism diagnosis on someone who is resistant to it, and I especially discourage it in the case where older adults are trying to figure out “what is wrong” with someone younger and they hypothesize it must be autism because of the negative traits that are all they see with regard to autism. But an autism diagnosis can be useful, and even if it doesn’t mean that there is a medication to “cure autism” or even to “prevent symptoms” of autism, it is useful to have a diagnosis in a number of ways (self-diagnosis is also valid).

An autism diagnosis, for me, enabled me to see patterns in myself that I hadn’t seen before. It allowed me to let go of a kind of perfection (something I’m still working on, I admit) in which I demanded of myself that I be able to mimic neurotypical behavior perfectly, and that I never allow myself to show signs of needing accommodations or of simply not being able to do what other people expected should be normal or natural or easy for me. I immediately stopped doing a set of behaviors that had been causing me to have migraines on a weekly basis. These behaviors included forcing myself into noisy situations, and into situations in which I was required to be “on” (masked) for long periods of time, focusing on faces and trying to interpret emotions and respond appropriately.

A diagnosis of autism allowed me to see my childhood differently, as well. I literally never thought of myself as being bullied as a child. I thought that EVERYONE experienced bullying behavior and that I was just normal in the way that I was targeted by bullies in elementary school. But looking back I can see clearly that I stook out like a sore thumb, that I was the “weirdo” kid who was easy to pick on. I can also see clearly how I began to dissociate from a young age because not showing any emotion at all was a key component of my anti-bullying tactic. I can see that I stopped much of my social development because I had such a deep distrust of anyone who tried to be my friend. Letting go of that early childhood self-assessment that I “deserved” bad treatment was a key part of me becoming a much more social adult. I have to plan out my social interaction so that it feels good to me, but I do like interacting with other people on my own terms. I don’t mistrust them the way that I used to.

My autism diagnosis enabled me to connect to other autistic people, as well. It helped me to see the spectrum of autism in all of its glory. It has helped me to be less prejudiced because I learned to have internalized ableism to protect myself.

“Oh, no, I’m not different. I don’t need any extra help, no sir.”

I have learned to be suspicious of labels like “high-functioning” and “Asperger’s” or even “low needs” and “high needs” because the truth is that you don’t know how quickly your needs can change depending on the situation and how your autism is going in your life. I sometimes don’t feel like I need help at all. Other times, I am so exhausted with how much time and energy I put toward my autism and fitting into the neurotypical world.

My autism diagnosis has been a very satisfying way of framing problems I’ve had throughout my life. I’ve always been a word person (hyper lexic from an early age) and I can see now that many of my “personality” traits are autistic-tinged. I love books and started telling people I wanted to be a writer when I was five years old. I don’t feel sad that I devoted so much of my life to writing and to words. I still enjoy the self-expression that writing allows me. But seeing it as part of my autism has also allowed me to try out other new things in life, entering the financial world and letting go of Mormonism, which was so much a part of my coping with autism for so many years. Because I can recognize autism, I can also let go of the parts of me that I created because I was autistic. It may sound weird, but it’s true. It has been freeing to see autism and to see that it is a disability and not always a super-power, though it can be that, as well.