Hi! I'm 49. I had no clue I was autistic until earlier this year.
Instead of knowing I was autistic, I believed I was a “freak,” “broken,” “missing something,” and a thousand other derogatory descriptions. My mom often lovingly joked that I was “born without a censor button.” Some people found me intimidating, others found me comical and I couldn't figure out their impressions were situational (I still don't understand, I just know that a person's impression of me is partially dependent on the situation in which we spoke. Doesn't make a lick of sense.) My kindergarten progress report noted that my “collegiate vernacular" made it difficult for me to get along with other children and that I was often “bossy" (it's frustrating when your peers don't understand you — in my mind, I was teaching them to understand). My father dubbed me a “Walking Encyclopedia of Useless Information" and lamented that I couldn't be as informed in maths. Meanwhile, my maths instructors were likely frustrated with my inability to learn the How if I didn't understand the Why. Geometry was a nightmare of formulas I was just supposed to memorize as though they were magic incantations. My school teachers would have been shocked at how easily I applied those formulas (without recognizing that's what I was doing) when calculating the pitch of a roofing project.
Until earlier this year, I would often confide in my saint of a husband that I “just didn't get it.” Throughout our relationship, I would remind him that “I'm not that girl" when he made a romantic gesture or tried to console me in the ways he was used to. I would complain that “people don't make any sense" as though I was another species. I would have emotional outbursts every couple of months because I couldn't handle dealing with the fact that people don't believe you if you *say* you're feeling neglected, or unwanted, or hurt. No, they only believe you if you make a scene of yourself, crying and freaking out. In fact, it's practically a miracle when someone actually LISTENS — TO — MY — WORDS rather than making some sort of assumption about what I mean. WORDS ALREADY HAVE MEANINGS, THEY DON'T NEED PSYCHIC HELP.
*ahem*
Pardon me. 49 years of frustration is a lot to parse, ya know? What was the question again? Oh!
Yes, it is possible for an autist to not know they're autistic until later in life.
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