The Late Bloomer’s Guide to Embracing Autism at 55

So, picture this: you’ve spent 55 glorious years on this planet, thinking you’ve got this whole “adulting” thing down pat. You’ve raised a family, navigated a career, and even managed to remember your anniversary 29 out of 31 times (brownie points, right?). But then, out of the blue, someone drops the bombshell—you’re autistic. Cue the dramatic pause, and a big “Well, isn’t that just grand?”

The Great Reveal: Autism at 55? Seriously?

Yes, folks, you heard it right. At the ripe old age of 55, I was introduced to my new BFF—autism. You might be thinking, “Isn’t that something they usually figure out when you’re still knee-high to a grasshopper?” Well, apparently, my quirky, socially awkward self managed to fly under the radar for decades.

So, there I was, minding my business, and suddenly, I’m told I’m on the autism spectrum. It was like finding out you’ve been living in a rom-com while thinking it’s a documentary.

Doctor’s Office Adventures: “You’re What Now?”

The journey to this revelation was a real page-turner. Picture me sitting in the doctor’s office, ready for the usual “take two aspirins and call me in the morning” routine. Instead, I get, “You’re autistic.” The doctor might as well have said, “You’re secretly a unicorn.”

It turns out that adult autism diagnosis isn’t as common as getting a flu shot. They had to dust off the old diagnostic manual and give me the adult version of a pop quiz.

The Silver Lining: Finally, an Excuse for My Quirkiness!

Now, don’t get me wrong; I’m not complaining. Discovering my late-diagnosed autism was a bit like finding the missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle. Suddenly, all those moments of social awkwardness, sensory sensitivities, and intense interests made sense. It was like getting the answers to a test you didn’t know you were taking.

Plus, I now have the perfect excuse for those times I’d rather spend an evening with my collection of vintage action figures than attend a social gathering. “Sorry, I can’t make it—I’m busy being authentically me.”

Navigating Social Waters: It’s All About the Wink and Nod

So, how does one go about navigating the social seas with this newfound identity? Well, it turns out that being autistic at 55 means you’ve already mastered some survival skills. You’ve learned the fine art of the “wink and nod” during conversations when you have no clue what’s going on. And you’ve become a pro at strategically avoiding sensory overload (bright lights, I’m looking at you).

Joining the Autism Club: Where We Embrace Our Quirks

Embracing my late-diagnosed autism has also meant joining a club I didn’t even know existed. There’s something oddly comforting about connecting with fellow late bloomers on the spectrum. We swap stories of our “aha” moments and chuckle at the quirks that make us who we are.

And let’s not forget the joy of educating well-meaning friends and family who might still think autism only affects kids. “No, Aunt Susan, I’m not just a picky eater; I have sensory sensitivities!”

It’s Never Too Late to Be You

So, there you have it, folks—the tale of an adult diagnosed with autism at 55. It’s been a journey filled with surprises, revelations, and a healthy dose of self-discovery. And you know what? It’s never too late to embrace your true self, quirks and all.

If I’ve learned anything from this late-life plot twist, it’s that life has a funny way of throwing surprises our way. So, whether you’re 5 or 55, embrace your unique neurodivergent journey with a hint of humor, a dash of sarcasm, and a whole lot of self-love. After all, being authentically you is the greatest plot twist of all.