My Late Diagnosis: Living Decades without Diagnosis
For as long as I can remember, I felt different. Not “bad different” all the time, but different in a way that never quite made sense to me or to the people around me. Teachers would call me bright but inconsistent. Friends would sometimes drift away because I was “too much.” And inside, I always felt like I was putting on a show — trying to keep up with what everyone else seemed to do so naturally.
It wasn’t until adulthood that I finally got the words: ADHD and autism.
A late diagnosis.
The Mixed Emotions of a Late Diagnosis
When people talk about diagnosis, they usually focus on relief: finally knowing why you are the way you are. And yes, there is relief in that. But what doesn’t get spoken about enough is the grief that comes with it.
Relief that you finally have language for your struggles. Validation that you’re not “lazy” or “dramatic.” Grief for the child you were, who went unsupported. Anger at the years of misunderstandings and missed opportunities.
A late diagnosis isn’t just a label. It’s a reckoning with your past, present, and future.
What I Wish I Knew Sooner
Looking back, the signs were always there. I was sensitive, deeply focused on things I loved, forgetful in ways that didn’t match my intelligence, and constantly masking just to get through school, friendships, and jobs.
The trouble is that the system isn’t designed to pick up neurodivergence in kids who:
Do “well enough” academically. Mask their struggles to fit in socially. Don’t fit the stereotype of the hyperactive boy bouncing around the classroom.
So, many of us slip through the cracks until adulthood — when the cracks have widened into burnout, anxiety, or a sense of being completely lost.
Reframing the Story
One of the hardest parts of a late diagnosis is battling the thought: “If only I had known sooner.”
But here’s what I’ve learned: you can’t go back. You can only move forward with the clarity you have now.
Instead of dwelling on the “what ifs,” I’ve started reframing my story:
I survived without answers, which shows resilience. My struggles were real — and now I have proof. My future doesn’t have to look like my past.
And maybe most importantly, I’ve found that self-understanding is the first step toward self-compassion.
Practical Steps After a Late Diagnosis
Getting a diagnosis is only the beginning. Here are some things that helped me (and might help you, too):
Give yourself time to process. You don’t have to “do” anything immediately. Let the emotions come. Start tracking your patterns. I use Symptom Trackers to notice how my ADHD and autism show up daily — it’s a powerful way to understand yourself and build evidence if you need adjustments at work or school. Manage your energy, not just your time. Tools like the Un-Masking Guidebook help me avoid burnout by recognising when masking is using up energy. Get clear on the system. If you’re still navigating diagnosis or want to understand what comes next, my free Diagnosis Roadmap can walk you through the steps in the UK system.
Finding Peace in Self-Acceptance
A late diagnosis doesn’t erase the years of struggle, but it does give you the gift of clarity. For me, it’s been about forgiving myself for what I didn’t know, grieving the lost years, and finally learning to live in alignment with my brain.
If you’re on this path too, know this: you’re not broken, and you’re not alone. Your diagnosis doesn’t change who you are — it simply explains the story you’ve been living all along.
Your Turn: Have you had a late diagnosis, or do you suspect one? What emotions came up for you? Share in the comments — I’d love to hear your story.
