I began questioning whether I might be Autistic around age 45 during a period of deep personal healing and growth. At the time, I was immersed in my own therapy work exploring long-held patterns, identity, and self-understanding. So much of what I was uncovering made sense intellectually, but there were still parts of me that didn’t quite fit into any framework I knew. I sensed something deeper underneath something I hadn’t yet named. Over time, I began to notice familiar themes in my clients’ stories, especially those who were neurodivergent. Their experiences of sensitivity, deep thinking, and emotional intensity mirrored so much of my own inner world. Quietly, I began to wonder if what I recognized so easily in others was also true for me. When my child was 16, they received their own autism diagnosis. During the parental interview, the psychologist paused, looked at me thoughtfully, and asked a question that stopped me in my tracks: “Have you ever wondered if you might be Autistic, too?” That moment cracked something open. What had been a quiet curiosity became a clear invitation to explore myself more fully. At 50, I decided to pursue a formal assessment. A year later, at 51, I was officially diagnosed as Autistic. That confirmation gave language and validation to what had always been true. It gave me the reflection I had always yearned for, one that finally made sense of my inner world, my sensitivities, and my way of being. I was finally seen. The diagnosis allowed me to release years of self-doubt and overcompensation. It brought a deep sense of peace and belonging I had never known. It also allowed me to bring new depth and authenticity to my work as a therapist, creator, and mother. Autism is the lens through which I understand connection, intuition, and empathy. And it has given me the language to not only understand myself, but also to help others see their own brilliance reflected back at them.

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