Late Diagnosis Grief: Relief, Anger, and Learning to Be on Your Own Side

Come join the conversation as we explore the unexpected grief that can come with a late autism or neurodivergence diagnosis alongside relief. We will talk about how  clarity can illuminate past experiences of masking, being labeled “too sensitive,” struggling socially without an “instruction manual,” repeated burnout, and years of self-blame and internalized shame from unmet needs and lack of support. 

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Book a Discovery Call 📞: https://calendly.com/blossomandthrivecoaching/30min

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**Disclaimer** I am not a mental health professional and I do not speak for everyone. I am simply a woman with AuDHD who wants to share experiences, stories, and knowledge.

Need support or feeling stuck?

Book a Discovery Call 📞: https://calendly.com/blossomandthrivecoaching/30min

Instagram 📱: @blossom.and.thrive.coaching

**Disclaimer** I am not a mental health professional and I do not speak for everyone. I am simply a woman with AuDHD who wants to share experiences, stories, and knowledge.

Transcript

Audio Only - All Participants 0:00

Hello everyone. Welcome to the Women Who Are Autistic. The podcast we're being different isn't just accepted. It's celebrated. I'm Annelise your life, career, and financial coach, and I help autistic women build lives that feel aligned, meaningful, and unapologetically authentic. So grab your favorite sensory friendly beverage and get comfy. Let's dive in and rethink what's possible together. Today we are talking about one of the most unexpected parts of being diagnosed later in life, the grief that comes with finally understanding yourself. Friends, when you are finally diagnosed, it doesn't mean something is wrong with you now. But it just means that it finally makes sense. But knowing it isn't just a relief. It can also be a major loss. See, you're not grieving for who you are, but rather you're grieving how long you had to navigate the world without knowing. So take a gentle breath with me because you're safe here. There's room for whatever you're feeling. And I wanna say this gently. I'm not offering advice. I'm not telling you what you should do. I just really wanna share what I'm unlearning and what's helping me right now. So please take what feels supportive, leave what doesn't. And at any point, listening feels like too much. You're allowed to pause, skip, or stop. You're safe here. After diagnosis, whether it's autism, a DHD, AuDHD, or any other neurodivergence that finally clicked most of us feel two things at once, relief and then grief. The relief is beautiful. You might be finding yourself saying, I'm not broken. There's nothing morally wrong with me. My brain and body just work differently. That realization can feel like finally putting on the right pair of glasses after years of blur., You finally have an answer. Why you have felt like you are From another planet, a distant planet that no one else is on except you. But right alongside it comes the grief. You might start asking, why didn't I know this sooner? How come I didn't see the signs? How many years did I spend thinking I was failing at being a normal person when I just operate differently? You might find yourself crying after that diagnosis. Not from sadness alone, but from the sheer weight of finally being seen. You might ride emotional waves that feel very confusing. One moment you're hopeful. The next, you're heavy with sorrow for the version of who you tried so hard to be with no map. Is completely normal and it's a completely okay to have both grief and relief. See, clarity doesn't erase the past. It illuminates it, and sometimes what gets illuminated hurts. As the understanding settles in, many of us begin to reprocess years of our lives through a new lens. You might remember being called too sensitive or told you were too dramatic when you were simply feeling things deeply. We might recall social situations where you felt like an alien, like everyone else had received a secret instruction manual for how to connect, and you're just left guessing. Or maybe you're just so long to be part of the world. But for some reason there was a wall between. The world and you and you just never knew how to get that wall down. School work, friendships, family expectations, even romantic relationships, you name it, they're so difficult, and you just always wondered why they never clicked for you. You might have also often been expected to function exactly like everyone else, even when your nervous system was screaming otherwise. And because you didn't have the language or the support, you internalized the message that something was wrong with you. Now, with this new understanding, you may start remembering moments differently. Conversations where you masked so hard, you lost yourself afterward. At times you were overwhelmed, but pushed through because everyone else can handle it. Friendships that ended not because you were unlikable, but because you didn't know how to explain your needs. You weren't wrong. You just were unsupported. Let that truth settle gently. You were doing. You were doing your best with the tools and information you had at the time, and friends, you still are. You're doing an amazing job. Another layer, many of us grieve, is the repeated cycles of burnout. You pushed through sensory overload. You forced yourself into environments that drained you dry, you said yes. When your whole body wanted to say no, you kept keeping up because you didn't understand why it felt so much harder for you than for others. Without knowing your limits, you treated yourself like a machine that just needed more discipline. But in reality, you needed to take more time to rest and recharge, and you needed to do that more than most people needed to around you. And you can never explain why. You probably ignored the signals, the exhaustion, the shutdowns, the meltdowns that came after because you thought that was just how life was. But it isn't. Life isn't that way, especially if you're neurodivergent. It was you operating without instructions. Your body and brain actually needed, you weren't failing to keep up. You were just running on a completely different operating system, and no one had ever told you that it was okay. To be different and nobody didn't even show you how to be different or how to be supported in it. Those burnout cycles weren't a personal flaw. They were the natural result of living out of alignment with your neurology for decades. The hardest cycle for some to break is blaming yourself for not seeing the signs of difference sooner rather than later. This is perhaps the deepest layer, the grief around all the self blame. For years you may have told yourself. I'm lazy. I'm too much. I'm not enough. I just need to try harder. And if I just got it together, maybe just, maybe I could be like everyone else. Friends, it brings up the question, why would you wanna be anyone else? You have something this world needs. You have a voice, you have a story. That can change lives. And I say that because you have to spend so much energy trying to fix yourself. You've read the self-help books, you've created elaborate systems. You punished yourself for not being consistent, for needing rest, for getting overwhelmed by things that seemed easy for others, and that brought so much internalized shame. I have been there. I still see myself doing it that at times, but I had to wake up. I had to step out of the shame and realize I can't change my past. I can't change who I am, nor do I want to, but others out there needed me. They needed what I could provide them. And what I could provide them is a different view of this world. I could provide them the information or even show them how to not have to be on the go all the time, and how to get through the shutdowns and how to get through the overwhelm, because honestly, guys. Not a lot of people know that. They don't know the struggle we've had to go through, and they might come to you when they are in the struggle and don't know what to do, and you could offer that support, but you need to get out of the shame first. And I'm not saying it's easy. It is really hard because There have been nights where you have been wondering, where I was wondering why can't I just be normal friends many of the things you blamed yourself for were actually unmet needs. Your need for sensory regulation, your need for clear communication and directness, your need for downtime and recovery. Your need to be understood as you are, not as a broken version of neurotypical. You weren't lazy. You aren't lazy, you were exhausted, and you may be still exhausted. You weren't too much. And you aren't too much. You were unmasked and unregulated. You weren't failing. You're not failing. You were unsupported, and you need support. You deserve to know this about yourself much sooner. Absolutely. Could that have helped you? Probably yes. But right now you need to show up for yourself because you know, and friends, it's okay to grieve that you didn't know. It's okay to grieve that loss, but I beg you don't stay there. Sometimes along the sadness, anger rises. Friends, let me tell you, in case no one has ever told you this before, or if you need it to be reminded, it's okay to be angry. Anger in itself is not an evil emotion, but a necessary one, especially in the grieving process. If you have been holding back or have been living in fear of feeling angry, I'm giving you permission right now and I even ask that you give the space to feel the anger. Now, I wanna be clear, I'm not condoning violence or malicious acts, but rather asking you not to bottle up the anger. You can be angry at the systems that missed you, the schools, the doctors, the therapists, even your parents. You can be angry at the people who dismissed your struggles or told you. Just try it harder. You can be angry at the world that still doesn't fully understand neurodivergence. You can even be angry at yourself for not seeing it sooner. How could you have, you didn't know. Anger is often grief with a direction. It's the energy of this should not have happened this way, and you don't have to push that anger away. You can let it move through you, either by journaling, moving your body or speaking it safely to someone who gets it. It doesn't have to consume you. It can simply be honored as part of the grieving process. So what do we do with all this grief, all this loss, and even all the relief? It's important to know. Don't rush to fix it. Not everybody's grief process is the same. It's never in the same order, most likely, and it never looks the same, and that's okay. And it also has a time of its own. Not everyone can grieve and find healing in the same amount of time as someone else. Also don't try to positive think your way out of it. That's only setting yourself up for failure because grief comes in waves. Some days the grief will feel heavy. Other days, it will feel quieter. But know that both the heavy and the quiet, it's okay. Also, you don't have to process everything at once. You can revisit your past slowly with gentleness and compassion. You're allowed to feel both. Deep compassion for your younger self and real sadness for what she carried alone. Again, there's no timeline for this. Some parts of the grief may stay with you for a long time while others for a short time, and that doesn't mean you're doing it wrong. In fact, healing doesn't happen with a snap of your fingers. Friends, please note understanding is already a form of healing every time you name what happened. Every time you offer yourself the kindness you deserved back then, you are rewriting the story, not by changing the past, but by changing how you hold it. I'd like to offer you a simple reflection if it feels right for you right now. If you could go back and speak to a younger version of yourself. The version who didn't yet have language for what she was experiencing, what would you want her to know? And I'm gonna pause for a few seconds so you can think real hard about the question and how you would respond to it. With your response, I'm curious. Would you tell that younger version of yourself she's not broken, that her sensitivity is a strength and not a flaw that she deserves rest and understanding, not punishment. That she's already enough exactly as she is friends, you don't have to correct her. You only have to offer her the compassion she never received. So take a moment. Breathe, let whatever wants to come come. Nothing about your past changes. The years you lived without this understanding still happened, but the way you hold it can change. Often. The grief is part of learning how to finally be on your own side, to pair yourself with the kindness, patience, and advocacy. You need it all along. My dearest friends, you are not behind. You are not too late. You are right on time for the version of you that gets to live with more truth, more self-compassion, and more aligned support. You are safe to feel all of this, and you are worthy of the life that can grow on the other side of this grief, I wanna thank you for being here with me because you're not alone in this. If you're moving through this right now and would like support, you don't have to do it alone. This is something I hold a space for often. If you need support, please feel free to reach out. You can find how to connect with me and learn about the support I provide in the show notes. Friends, it has been an honor to talk to you today, sending you calm and compassion. Until next time,