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Where do I start? And where does my Autism end?
I received my diagnosis seven years ago, at the age of 32. It was my partner, Mia, who first suggested I might be Autistic. She was watching a program about Autistic children and remarked, “That boy reminds me of you.” She couldn’t have been more right.
A year later, I found answers to questions I had pondered for years. It was a moment of clarity that transformed my life.
In the beginning, it felt great to identify as Autistic, and I wanted to share this news with everyone. Not out of pride, but to explain the reasons behind my actions that others often misunderstood. I was so consumed with proving my point to those who doubted me that I lost sight of the real purpose behind my assessment. Instead of taking the opportunity for self-discovery, I ended up shoving it in people’s faces, attempting to justify my behavior as not solely my fault—which, ironically, became annoying in itself.
Once I informed everyone who had ever made me feel inferior about my “disability” (a term I was still figuring out), I began to contemplate what being Autistic truly meant for me. This realization became a significant challenge, as I suddenly found myself questioning my identity. I had always believed I knew who I was—I was the confident guy, the angry one, the sensitive soul, the diligent worker, the father, the partner, the sibling, and the son. But this “condition” I was told I “have” complicated everything. Who was I really?
If so many of my behaviors were due to my Autism, then was I Alex, or was I Autism? This internal struggle became an obsession, consuming my thoughts. I constantly analyzed my actions, interactions, and thoughts.
For years, this conflict haunted me, leading to some dark times. One moment I would despise my Autism, and the next, I would embrace it. Some days I wished for a pill to erase it, while on others, I longed for a magic pill that would ensure it stayed with me forever. I felt torn apart because I was trying to separate my Autism from my true self.
In 2018, everything came to a head. I made a mistake at work, and my boss suggested it was due to my Autism. I didn’t agree, but I accepted his words and promised to leave my Autism behind when I went to work. Naturally, that was impossible. Trying to create this separation led to severe depression.
Then, I discovered photography. I began with my phone and then moved on to a DSLR camera. I improved quickly, which baffled me at first. I reflected on how I had always been able to excel at various interests rapidly, and it dawned on me that my Autism played a crucial role in this, alongside my inherent drive. My Autism enabled me to hyper-focus and learn intensely, while my determination fueled my success.
So, I decided there was no separation between Autism and Alex. They were one and the same, integral parts of who I am. I didn’t “have” Autism—I was Autistic. Accepting this was liberating, and my mental health significantly improved. Understanding my true self made all the difference, allowing me to achieve incredible things I once thought impossible. Yet, I will always remember the pain of believing I had something wrong with me, which affected both myself and those around me. My neurodiversity never caused harm; rather, my trauma and confusion about my identity did.
This is my journey and my personal experience. Others will have their own struggles and paths. I hope that by sharing my story, it might resonate and help someone else along their way.
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