My Experience as a Newly Diagnosed Autistic Adult

I'm a recently diagnosed autistic adult and these are my personal symptoms of autism.

Hey, I’m a newly diagnosed autistic adult — and I want to share my story to help anyone who might be wondering if they could be autistic too.

Getting a diagnosis later in life has been both a relief and a journey of rediscovery. For years, I didn’t have a name for the differences I noticed in myself — the way I thought, felt, and experienced the world. I just thought I was “too sensitive,” “too quiet,” “too intense,” or “too weird.”

Now I understand that these things were part of how my autistic brain works — and that there was never anything wrong with me.

This isn’t a diagnostic tool, but rather a reflection of my own experience. Autism is a spectrum, and everyone’s experience is unique. These are some of the traits, struggles, and strengths I’ve noticed in myself.

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Social Differences

Autism can affect how we process social interaction — not because we don’t care about people, but because we often experience communication differently.

Here are a few things I’ve noticed in myself:

• Object permanence (or lack of it)
  This means that when something — or someone — isn’t in front of me, my brain struggles to hold onto the concept of it existing. It can make me forget what I came into a room for, where I put things, or even how to get home from somewhere familiar. It’s not forgetfulness; it’s more like my brain temporarily “loses the file.”

• Dislike of physical contact
  Hugs, handshakes, or even light touches can feel overwhelming or uncomfortable. It’s not about disliking people — it’s that sensory input can be too intense.

• Avoiding eye contact
  Eye contact can feel like staring into a spotlight. I often listen better when I’m not forced to look directly at someone.

• Trouble understanding jokes or sarcasm
  I used to take jokes literally, missing the “hidden meaning.” When I finally started understanding sarcasm, I went through a phase of overusing it — it felt exciting to finally “get” that layer of communication.

• Preferring to lead games or activities
  As a child, I only wanted to play my own made-up games. I struggled when people changed the rules or wanted to do something different. That need for sameness or predictability still follows me into adulthood.

• Hating change
  Change makes me panic. Even small changes — a routine shift, a new route, or plans being cancelled — can feel like my world has tilted sideways. It takes time and preparation for me to adjust.

• Overanalyzing everything
  I spend hours thinking about the meaning of life, relationships, and human behaviour. My brain never stops asking why.

• A deep love of writing and expression
  Writing is where I find clarity. Because I often struggle to express emotions in speech, words on paper help me explain myself — and make the world make sense.

• Being overly trusting or naive
  I tend to take people at face value. I see the good in them, even when I shouldn’t. It’s part of my empathy — but it’s also how I’ve been hurt the most.

• Struggling to lie
  Lying feels physically wrong. My whole body rejects it.

• Feeling alien or “out of place”
  I’ve often felt like I’m observing life rather than living it. Like I’m visiting a planet where everyone else already knows the rules.

• Zoning out or “staring into space”
  My brain disconnects sometimes — especially when it’s overloaded. It’s not daydreaming; it’s more like rebooting.

• Oversharing or blurting things out
  I say things that others might find too personal or inappropriate, but I’m not trying to shock anyone. I just don’t always catch social cues quickly.

• Very tidy and organised
  Having things in order makes me feel safe. When my surroundings are chaotic, my brain feels chaotic too.

• Having few but deep friendships
  I may not have a large social circle, but the people I connect with mean the world to me.

• Avoiding conversations about bad or painful topics
  I struggle with negativity — hearing or thinking about something sad can send me into emotional overload.

• Strong emotional reactions to music or sound
  Music affects me deeply. A song can make me cry, shake, or feel physically overwhelmed — especially if it’s loud.

• Other co-occurring conditions
  Many autistic people also live with other conditions such as OCD, anxiety, depression, chronic fatigue, or thyroid issues. These can amplify sensory or emotional sensitivities.

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Sensory Differences

Sensory processing differences are one of the biggest parts of my autism. My brain interprets sensations — touch, sound, smell, light — more intensely than most people’s.

Some examples from my life:

• I’m easily startled by sudden sounds or movement
• I hate loud noises, especially unexpected ones
• I play with my hair or fidget constantly to stay calm
• I hate wet skin — I need to dry off immediately after washing
• I bite my nails or move my feet up and down without realising
• As a child, I loved spinning or repetitive motion — it soothed me
• After a bath, I sometimes flap my hands instinctively, like my body’s way of shaking off sensory overload
• I itch without being itchy — my skin just feels “wrong” sometimes
• I can’t always tell if water is too hot or too cold
• I get a burning sensation in my feet in the bath — it’s uncomfortable but not from the temperature itself

These may seem small, but when your senses are constantly on high alert, the world can feel overwhelming.

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Special Interests

Autistic people often have special interests — topics that bring deep focus and joy. They’re not just hobbies; they’re safe spaces for our minds. Mine include:

• Aliens and space — I love thinking about other worlds and possibilities
• Time travel — I find it fascinating how time might bend or loop
• The Mandela Effect — exploring memory, perception, and alternate realities
• Coding — it’s structured, logical, and calming — a language that makes sense

Special interests aren’t obsessions — they’re lifelines. They help regulate emotions and provide a sense of stability when everything else feels unpredictable.

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Final Thoughts

Autism isn’t a flaw — it’s a different way of being. It’s a brain that processes the world with depth, intensity, and honesty.

But being undiagnosed for years took a toll on me. It affected my self-esteem, relationships, and mental health. I spent so long masking — pretending to be “normal” — that I lost touch with who I really was.

Getting diagnosed helped me reclaim myself. It explained why I am the way I am — not broken, just different. And difference is beautiful.

If you see yourself in any of what I’ve described, it doesn’t necessarily mean you’re autistic — but it might be worth exploring. Talk to your GP, or look into an autism assessment if you can.

You’re not strange, you’re not wrong — you just process the world in your own unique way.

💗 Take care of yourself. The world is brighter when you stop trying to dim your light to fit in.