I Thought I Was an Asshole. Turns Out It Was Autism.

Late autism diagnosis in women can make you look back at your entire life and think, “Holy shit. How did nobody catch this? Who even am I?”

I was diagnosed with autism a year and a half ago, but I’m only now beginning to understand what being autistic actually means for me. And learning about autism in women, masking autism, and autistic burnout has made a whole bunch of things from my past suddenly look very different.

In this episode:

• signs of autism in women that can be missed for decades
• getting an autism diagnosis as an adult
• why I didn’t recognize many of my own autistic traits
• sensory issues and other autism traits I thought were just “me”
• struggling to read social cues and the unspoken rules everyone else seemed to understand
• masking autism and learning to perform the “right” social behaviors
• the overlap between masking, people-pleasing, shame, and autistic burnout
• what it’s like to rethink your identity after a late autism diagnosis

If you’re a late-diagnosed autistic woman, think you might be autistic, or have spent your life wondering why being a person sometimes seems harder for you than it does for everyone else, you’ll probably recognize yourself in this episode.

Transcript

 So I've been going through something over the last year where I've been feeling really weird, like not myself.  and I keep telling people that I feel like I'm shrinking. And on top of that, I've been super exhausted for years, and I've had a harder time than normal at social events.

And no, this isn't just because I'm an introvert. This is something above and beyond, like even more painful and awkward than how it's always been.

So I returned to therapy a couple of weeks ago, and that's when stuff finally started to make sense. Because according to my therapist, everything I'm experiencing now is because of autism.

I know that I've mentioned autism in other episodes, but this time I swear it really does hit different, because now I'm finally learning what that really means.

See, I was diagnosed about a year and a half ago now, but I wasn't given any guidance around that. I had this label and this category, and I think it brought like a brief hit of relief in the moment.

But because they didn't give me any actual information about it, I wasn't making the lifestyle changes that I really needed to make for my mental health. Which is why I've been running myself into the ground and then blaming myself for that. I just didn't understand how autism is the root of everything I'm struggling with right now.

I don't know if this is you too. Like, if you've ever felt like you've had a hard time fitting in, or you don't understand other people, or maybe you've noticed people getting upset with you, and it's often a mystery why that is. Or maybe you're like me, and you feel like you've been moving through a game where everybody knows the rules, but you don't.

Yeah, this is basically my entire life right here. And that's why I thought for today it would be really good to talk about some of the signs in my past that pointed to autism, which are pretty fricking obvious now.

But back then, these things were really overlooked, especially in women, which is why I only recently got a diagnosis. 

And honestly, the lack of awareness around autism is still pretty shocking to me, which is why I decided to talk about it on this pod.

So hopefully you listen to the whole episode just in case this is you or someone you know because my God, I would never want someone else to go through life like I have without getting the support they need.

You're listening to This Is How You Think, the show that remodels your mindset. I'm your host Jule Kim. Let's dive in.

Around five years ago, I met this person. Their name is Jennifer, and they're autistic. And side note, I'm saying "they" because that's their preferred pronoun. Anyway, Jennifer tells me they thought I might be autistic, that I kinda felt autistic to them. And I remember scoffing. I was like, "Psh, oh my God, this is just somebody who wants us to be the same, but we're not.

There's no way." Like, there's no way I can be autistic, because autism, that's like being Rain Man, okay? That's like Ben Affleck in The Accountant. That is not me.

Well, I guess the joke's on me, Jennifer, because you were right.

My therapist had me take a basic autism screener, the AQ-10, on which I scored a 10 out of 10, meaning I had all of the traits that they're looking for in order to say, "You know what?This person probably has autism."

Anyway, I thought I would share some of the questions here in case you wanna have yourself or your family tested. So just know that if you do end up taking it, that you'll wanna take it more like how you were when you were maybe younger, because that's what my therapist told me to do.

She said, "Make sure you take it as who you were before and not who you are today," because she knows I have gone through coach training, which has probably installed a lot of the missing pieces.

 Okay, here's the first question I saw. I often notice small sounds when others do not. Ding, ding, ding, 100%. And this is also true with sensations and smells, so a lot of sensory issues, like I smell things that my husband never notices. The seams and tags on clothing often really bother me, whereas I think most people, they don't even feel them.

Here's another question. "When I'm reading a story, I find it difficult to work out the characters' intentions." Oh my gosh, when I saw this question, I was like, "Dude, this is me." And in fact, I remember posting about a year ago on social media literally how I had a really hard time remembering any movies that I'd watched before five years ago, and a lot of that was because I was honestly emotionally stunted, and emotions are a big part of how memories last longer.

Like, emotions are part of how memories are encoded in your brain. So now I've decided I'm gonna go back and re-watch a lot of the movies, and it's fascinating to me because it's almost like they're completely brand new to me.

So you know how in every movie there's usually a main surface plot, like how Jurassic Park is about dinosaurs escaping and then people having to figure out, like, what to do about this, right?

But in movies or stories, there's always the emotional plots, too, like these emotional arcs that the major characters are going through. Like Dr. Alan Grant doesn't like kids in the beginning, and his girlfriend is like she wants a family, but he doesn't. But then by the end of the movie, he's protecting the kids that they're with like a father figure.

And see, back then, I never saw any of those emotional arcs. They didn't even register on my consciousness. So I remember being constantly puzzled at why these characters didn't just do the thing that they were supposed to do, and I was always so frustrated. I had no idea what they were gonna do next because I couldn't understand why they ever did anything.

They didn't make any sense to me.

Okay, here's another question. I find it easy to read between the lines when someone is talking to me. Yeah, this one, look, I was like, "Uh, what? Lines? What lines? Subtext? What the hell is that?" Yeah, uh, no. So this was something I had to actively teach myself. I read stuff online.

I've stopped people in mid-conversation and asked them what did they really mean, which was pretty embarrassing, but I was just like, " I don't get it." I've also asked my husband, "Hey,  what did this person mean by this when they said it? It was kinda weird in the moment, but I didn't totally understand what was going on."

So just taking the assessment really opened my eyes to all of these instances from my past. And honestly, there's so many of them, like stimming by twirling my hair, repetitive tapping.

There are so many things that my family thought I just had these irritating habits that were very childish, but they didn't understand that that was a sign of autism.

And I'm not gonna go into every single detail here, but the ones that I'm about to go into are the ones that seem pretty glaringly obvious as autistic traits.

For example, I remember as a kid being completely unconcerned about other people. I was the kid labeled "Does not play well with others," because if I saw something I wanted and another kid had it, I would just go up to them and take it.  And maybe this is part of kids just being little human-shaped animals.

You know, I'm sure that's at least some of it.

But the thing I remember that disturbed most adults back then was if the other kid cried because I jacked their stuff, right? I literally didn't comprehend why they were crying because I was all like, "Shut up, stupid." I know that sounds horrible, okay?

But that's just how I was. Whenever I did something, it never really occurred to me how my actions would impact other people and how they might feel. It just didn't cross my mind that the other person should be considered. And all I can say is that it comes from a higher than normal level of self-centeredness.

It's not malicious. It's more like blindness. I really don't know how else to put it. I think the best description of this self-centeredness with autism comes through in the Korean drama on Netflix called The Extraordinary Attorney Woo.

If you haven't seen it, I highly, highly recommend it, because not only is this the show how I realized or I finally accepted that maybe Jennifer was right that I am autistic, but it's a really good show, and it stands out in the plethora of K-dramas because the main character is autistic. And in Korea, anything around the mental space like this is kind of taboo.

So in the show, the main character asks her dad what it's like living with someone who has autism, and the dad says something like, "Living with an autistic person is very lonely.

It's you and me against the world, but you don't have any interest in me." And then it shows a flashback right after he says this,  where the dad is walking through the hallway at home, and this is back when she's, like, five or six, and he steps on a Lego.

He stumbles and falls down right next to the daughter who's playing with Legos, and he says, "Ow, Dad's in pain. Look, Dad's crying.

She looks at him for one second  and then goes back to playing with the Legos. She doesn't say anything to him. The dad goes from pretend crying to real crying when he realizes she doesn't care about him.

I will forever remember this scene because it was like a dagger to my heart, because I remember my parents saying, "Don't you care about us?"

so many times. Like, if I was away on a trip and I came back, my family would say, "We missed you. Did you miss us?" And sad to say, I didn't.  I know that sounds awful, and I'd always thought that it was because we were so dysfunctional as a family that I was just, like, really happy to escape them.

And some of that is true, but now I realize a lot of it is actually autism See, I'm the person who loves spending time with you, and I care about you but when you're not with me,  , when you're not right in front of me it's hard to feel that connection. It's almost like out of sight, out of mind.

I also remember my family very often yelling at me in Korean, "왜 이렇게 눈치 없어," which kind of translates to,

"Why can't you read the room?" And yet, whenever I ask them, "Well, what does that mean?" They would just reply, "It's a thing. Go learn it." Which is ridiculous. Like, how am I supposed to learn something if you won't teach me?

They've also told me so many times, "You can't just say that," but again, never explained why. I was just supposed to know that this thing was bad. I was never supposed to say that. I was supposed to know better, but I never did. This is something I've always found incredibly frustrating with emotional and social intelligence or norms because for the most part, these rules are unspoken. You're supposed to just pick 'em up.

But when you don't have the eyes to see these rules how are you supposed to do that?

I've also always been the person who would excessively correct others, which now I know is a really irritating trait.

And I remember this one time my husband was so exasperated and he was like, "Do you have to do that?" And I said, "Yes, because they should know. They should know they're not speaking the truth, and how do you stay in the same conversation if the foundation is messed up?"

You can probably tell I'm very literal, which tends to be a common trait with autistics.

Now take these few instances and multiply them by 1,000 and you have a good estimate of the number of awkward or painful encounters I've had throughout my life.

This is why going undiagnosed for so long sucks. It left me stranded as this socially un-potty trained person who experienced so much backlash from people, which then resulted in me feeling so embarrassed and ashamed that I used to tell myself, "You know what? I just won't speak anymore. Better safe than sorry."

That was the beginning of losing my voice.

It was also really hard to make and keep friends when I never understood why they got mad at me or what I was supposed to do to resolve things. So I found people highly unreliable and just straight up messy, which had me focusing on my intellect as the path to self-worth, because that's the part I could control, right?

I could study and I could work on the academic stuff. That was the place where everything made sense. But people felt like a black hole that I would never figure out.

And since I wasn't diagnosed, not only did I never get support, but I was also punished for not following social norms, especially the stuff that's expected out of women. It's probably why I've rarely had women friends because I wasn't following the women code.

Now, I know why this happens. You know, traditionally autism has focused on young white boys. It's historically excluded Asians, Black people, and also women. And back in the day, autism was so narrowly defined as people who couldn't speak, like they were non-verbals, and they could barely function. It didn't capture all the shades in between like it does now with the concept of autism as a spectrum. But, you know, I know the history, I know the context, and knowing that it doesn't really help, because how does that help me now?

So despite all of this stuff going on,  somehow I made it through life. It wasn't always graceful or pleasant but then I started to see really huge problems appear in my 30s.

The shame and embarrassment was overtaking me. I suffered from chronic depression.

I just felt like I never belonged.

And I think this is where the real harm came through because of the masking, the people-pleasing, and now most recently, the autistic burnout.

Right now I'm still figuring out the full extent of masking and what it is. But from what I've read so far, it's kind of like a performance. It's when you do things that aren't your natural behavior to hide your autistic traits. Stuff like copying body language and the tone of voice or facial expressions of other people. You plan what to say before you speak. You force eye contact, and you're constantly self-monitoring, like you're checking your behavior and your posture and your facial expressions during social interactions, trying to see that you're getting it right.

You're trying to pretend like you have these skills and you're not autistic so that people don't know, so that they won't reject you.

And so of course, with all of this attention and this energy output, when you go home, you're often so drained that you just shut down. You collapse.

I've done all of these things. I've gone through life feeling like I've had to decode these invisible rules. It's like I've always been building templates for how I'm supposed to act around other people.

I know it sounds robotic, and probably when I was younger it was because I lacked the nuance. So it was stuff literally like, "Oh, she's crying. I'm supposed to hug her," which as you know, isn't always appropriate, but that's the only thing I knew how to do.

So when I think about that, and then the fact that I became a coach, now it makes so much sense why I struggled so fricking hard and had so many meltdowns in the first several years of being a coach.

It's because I knew I was at a disadvantage.

See, being a good coach isn't just about asking good questions. Like, of course that helps, but what also helps, and now I'm starting to think is really a requirement, is that you understand people and how they work, how they think, what makes them tick. I didn't have that, and I hadn't yet worked with enough people to build that knowledge, so I remember thinking it was impossible.

Now over time, I've worked with lots of clients helping them grow and understand themselves. So like with all things, right, growth is inevitable. The more you do something, the better you get. And emotional intelligence isn't any different.

It can be learned. But for someone like me, the cost of learning it is a lot higher than it is for most people.

But lucky for me, I've always been fascinated by people. Nothing makes me happier than working with people, which is why I love coaching. It's been one of the most rewarding parts of my life.

So yeah, learning all of this recently has kind of rocked my world. I was just telling my therapist today that I feel like a snow globe that somebody picked up and shook the shit out of. 

Yeah. I think I've also been going through the grief that the books warn you about because you start to see just how much this thing has affected you in every dimension of life. 

So I'm struggling right now with some level of blame and anger, and just everything feeling super unfair. It's hard, maybe even bitter, knowing that it didn't have to be this way. You start to think, what could life have looked like if you had gotten the help or the support you really needed?

But here we are.  This is the hand that I was dealt. I know I can't go back in time.

So I'm taking some time to process and reorient myself.

Right now, I'm not totally sure what the path forward looks like, but I'm gonna stick with therapy. I also have some books on my list, like The Autistic's Guide to Self-Discovery by Sol Smith and Autistic Burnout Recovery by Elliot Reese. I haven't read them yet, so I can't really recommend them, but I'll let you know how they are.

Overall, I think I'm feeling optimistic.

Anyway, that's it for this week.

So one of the next episodes soon is going to cover autistic burnout, which is probably the biggest challenge I'm struggling with right now. It's the reason why I'm so fricking exhausted, and I think that's another one that people really need to know more about because it's not like traditional burnout.

So stay tuned for that one.

If you know someone who needs to hear this episode, and by the way, I know I always say that, but this one I really, really mean it, because I think it'll help a lot of people see that there's nothing wrong with them, right? They're just different. If you would share this or even post a link about it, I would be so grateful.

And of course, if you have any comments, text me or hit me up on LinkedIn.

As always, thank you so much for listening, and remember, I believe in you. See you next time.