I am different. Not less.

"I am different. Not less." - Dr Temple Grandin

So this may be a new level of procrastination for me.

I was supposed to put this out a week ago, but I’ve been wimping out every other day.

But here we go.

Last Saturday (the 18th of June) was National Autistic Pride Day.

Now I have mixed feelings on this. Stay with me, trust me, I’m not trying to get myself cancelled here.

Feeling One:

Autistic Pride Day taking place in the same month as LGBT+ Pride Month? Sweet, I should be full to the brim with all this pride aimed my way.

Feeling Two:

I didn’t actually know it was Autistic Pride Day until 11pm the night before, which I’m worried means I’m no longer allowed in the club.

But I’ve had a four sensory meltdowns this week so I think my membership is still valid.

So yeah.

For the incredibly dense among you, I’ll spell it out.

I, at the grand old age of 22, finally got the confirmation of a diagnosis I knew I had for a long time.

I am Autistic.

Seeeee? A lot about me is starting to make a lot more sense now, isn’t it?

As grateful as I am that I now have more clarity and answers to myself than I have ever had in my life, it’s also led to less positive things and discoveries.

1. I am 22. I’ve gone two decades of my life without the kind of support that could have made a hell of a lot of difference to me. I’ve gone two decades largely convinced that I was the problem. That there was just something inherently wrong with me that no one could ever or would ever understand.

Now please don’t think this is a pity party or a blame game. Schools, the NHS, Mental Health and Disability Services or all overworked, underpaid, oversubscribed and underfunded.

And also, I’m a girl.

It is a statistical fact that boys are around four times more likely to be diagnosed with ASD even though it is becoming more widely accepted that the condition is more prevalent in girls. And, even when they are diagnosed, girls often receive their confirmation much later in life.

More is known about autism spectrum disorders in boys than it is in girls. But this is nothing new.

Medical practice has been geared toward men for centuries, the same way that car safety features are designed with males in mind. In the same way car safety features predominantly favour men in terms of injury severity in a crash.

Other neurodivergent conditions are also often missed or delayed in girls. Comedian Angela Barnes didn’t receive her ADHD diagnosis until she was in her forties.

I know lots of people worry about labels, especially parents. No one really wants their kid to have a sticker that basically says “different”.

What I don’t think people factor in, are the positives that come with receiving a diagnosis, or a “label”.

Now I can’t speak for all neurodivergent people obviously, but I can and will speak for myself. And what this big, scary label gave me was something I have wanted and needed for a long time…

Clarity.

I’ve got a list of diagnoses as long as my arm. Mental, physical, chemical, etc, etc. And as much as I have put the work in to treat/combat them all, I always knew there was something missing.

Depression didn’t explain why I used to lie to my teachers and hide in the toilets when it got too loud in my classroom.

A generalised anxiety disorder didn’t truly explain why the tiniest deviation to my daily plan/schedule would have me in hysterics for what felt like forever.

I need to make it clear. I never wanted to have autism. Which also feels like a catch-22 to say, because it’s not like there’s anything wrong with being autistic, but I don’t think anyone ever has the goal of being told that they have a complex, lifelong developmental disability.

What I wanted was an answer to a shit load of unanswered questions that were slowly driving me over the edge.

I got it.

And to people in the same place, please understand that getting your first answer isn’t the end of it. Getting the diagnosis is the first part of a very, very long journey.

But I have my answer. My first answer. And I will get more. I’ll work out what being autistic means to me because it’s different for everyone. It is, after all, a spectrum.

So, hello.

I am Caitlin. I am autistic. I am different. Not less.

And I have answers to find.