Today, during my session with my therapist, we went over the results of my assessment. And there it was—clear, undeniable, and oddly comforting:

I am AuDHD
Both Autistic and ADHD.

There weren’t fireworks or a dramatic gasp. It was more like a deep exhale. A truth settling into my bones. One I had already started to suspect, maybe even know, but hearing it out loud… seeing it confirmed… it hit differently.

In that moment, I felt a profound sense of relief wash over me. The pieces of my life that had always felt disjointed began to align. All those quirks and behaviors that had once seemed puzzling now had an explanation. The moments of struggle that often felt isolating began to feel more like an integral part of who I am rather than a flaw to be corrected.

As I reflected on my experiences—the intense focus on topics that fascinate me, the overwhelming sensory sensitivities, and the bursts of creativity that can sometimes feel chaotic—it became clear how these aspects of my identity interplay. I found a strange comfort in knowing I was not alone in navigating the complexities of my mind. The weight of misunderstanding lifted, replaced by a sense of belonging to a community that understands the unique challenges and strengths that come with being AuDHD.

I left that session feeling empowered. Embracing this identity was not just about accepting a label; it was about reclaiming my narrative. Understanding my neurodiversity opened doors to new strategies for coping and thriving, encouraging me to seek out resources and connect with others who share this journey. There is a sense of adventure and discovery ahead, looking forward to exploring this new chapter with insight and acceptance.

There’s something powerful about a name. About validation. About someone sitting across from you, looking at all the pieces you’ve tried to explain over the years, and saying, “I see you. This makes sense. You make sense.”

That’s what I felt today—deep, soul-level validation.

According to the diagnostic criteria, my autism is considered Level 1, with traits that can sometimes slide into Level 2, depending on the environment, stress, and sensory load. It was like having someone read aloud parts of my inner world I’ve never fully been able to explain—especially how some days I navigate just fine, and other days even basic interactions feel like wading through thick fog with invisible weights on my chest.

On the good days, I find myself engaging with the world in a way that feels almost effortless. Conversations flow with relative ease, and I can pick up on social cues without much struggle. These moments are golden, allowing me to experience joy in the small interactions that others often take for granted. I can laugh, share stories, and connect, feeling a part of the world around me.

However, when the environment shifts—whether due to heightened stress levels, overwhelming sensory input, or simply a day when everything feels heavy—the contrast becomes stark. On those challenging days, it’s as if I’m encased in a bubble, disconnected from the sounds and sights that swirl around me. Each simple interaction can feel monumental, with words tangled in my throat and thoughts muddled in my mind. It’s a bewildering experience, one that often leaves me in a state of fatigue, as I grapple with the invisible weights that seem to grow heavier.

This duality of experience—fluctuating between intense clarity and foggy confusion—can be difficult to articulate. It has often felt like an internal battle with no victory in sight. Yet, when I finally recognized this pattern in my life, something shifted. Not shock. Not confusion. Just… understanding. Finally. It was like flipping a switch, illuminating the inner workings of my mind that had once felt so bewildering. This understanding has become a crucial part of my journey, allowing me to embrace both the challenges and the strengths that come with being on this spectrum.

When I told my mom, her response was something that stopped me in my tracks. She said,
“I never really felt like ADHD was all of it. There was always something else, but I could never understand it.”

And just like that, the missing puzzle piece clicked into place—not just for me, but for her too. She’d seen it all along. Felt it in the way I moved through the world. But like so many of us, she didn’t have the language or the framework for what it was. Neither of us did. Until now.

Then, not long after, a friend casually said, “Well… I kinda figured,”—and it made me laugh out loud.

Because yeahhh… we did kind of know. It’s been whispering beneath the surface for years. But at the same time, there’s this hesitancy to claim something so significant without confirmation—especially when you deeply respect the experiences of others. I never wanted to invalidate anyone else’s journey by jumping the gun on my own. So I waited. I asked the questions. I did the work. And now, here we are—with clarity and compassion in hand.

Today, I grieved and celebrated at the same time.

There’s grief for all the versions of me that didn’t have this language. For the child who masked instinctively. For the teen who didn’t understand why everything felt so hard. For the adult who internalized blame and burnout because the world wasn’t built with her in mind. Each of these versions of myself had to navigate a world that often felt overwhelming, filled with misalignment and confusion. They carried the weight of unexpressed emotions and unmet needs.

But there’s also freedom. Freedom to finally start understanding myself through a compassionate, accurate lens. Freedom to embrace what I need, not just what I was taught to tolerate. It’s a liberation that opens doors to authenticity, allowing me to explore my identity without the constraints of external expectations or judgments. This understanding is like the gentle unraveling of tightly held beliefs that once felt unchallengeable.

And yes—there’s still processing to do. This isn’t a one-and-done moment. It’s the start of a deeper journey. One where I get to unlearn, reframe, reclaim, and reintroduce myself to… myself. The path ahead will surely have its challenges, but it also holds the promise of growth and healing. I anticipate moments of doubt, perhaps even regression, but with the foundational understanding I’ve gained, I’m better equipped to navigate them.

So now what? The question hangs in the air, inviting exploration. How do I take this newfound clarity and infuse it into my everyday life? How do I honor the journey while also paving the way forward? It requires a commitment to continual self-reflection and a willingness to embrace the unknown. Each step can become part of a larger narrative—one woven with intention, authenticity, and resilience. The journey is not just about discovering who I am but also about actively participating in the ongoing evolution of my identity.

Now I rest.
Now I breathe.
Now I show myself grace.

And I share this here with you—not because I owe the world an explanation—but because maybe you’re on this path too. Maybe you’re in the foggy middle of self-discovery and needed to hear someone say that it’s okay to pause and reflect, even amidst the chaos. Life can often feel overwhelming, like an unending maze with no clear exit. Sometimes, we become so entangled in our responsibilities, expectations, and self-criticism that we forget to simply be.

It’s in moments of stillness that we begin to reconnect with ourselves. When we take the time to rest, to breathe deeply, and to embrace the grace we deserve, we open ourselves up to healing and understanding. Perhaps you’ve been navigating through your own uncertainties, questioning your choices, or struggling to find your footing. You are not alone in this; we all experience moments of doubt and confusion.

So let this be a gentle reminder for you: It’s perfectly acceptable to step back and take stock of where you are. Self-discovery is not a race; it’s a journey filled with highs and lows, breakthroughs and setbacks. Embrace the process, trust in your path, and allow grace to guide you through the fog. You’re not just surviving this chapter of your life—you are quietly thriving in your own way.

“You’re not broken. You’re not imagining it. You were just waiting for the right mirror.”

I’m still me. Still Mrs. B. Still the same creative, chaotic, soul-centered, love-fueled being I’ve always been. Now I just have a better understanding of why I’m wired the way I am.

And honestly? That’s a gift I won’t take for granted.

More soon. But for now… just breathing it in.

Much love to you all !

Mrs. B