Looking back at the signs of AuDHD I didn’t recognise at the time
One of the first questions I had after discovering I was autistic and ADHD was surprisingly simple: Why didn’t anyone notice?
I was diagnosed with autism and ADHD at 28 years old. And once I started learning about autism and ADHD, I began looking back at my childhood, school years, university and working life with a completely different perspective.
There were things I’d struggled with for years that suddenly made sense. So why hadn’t anyone noticed?
I thought autism and ADHD looked different
Part of the answer, I think, is that I had a very particular idea of what autism and ADHD looked like.
I didn’t see myself in the stereotypes. I wasn’t the child who was obviously unable to communicate. I wasn’t constantly getting into trouble at school. I could make some friends. I could talk to people. I could get pass classes (not well). I could be responsible. I could work hard. I could appear independent.
From the outside, there wasn’t necessarily an obvious reason to think: This child might be autistic and have ADHD. And that’s part of what makes late diagnosis so complicated.
I was good at coping
Looking back, one of the biggest clues was probably how hard I worked to cope.
I learnt how to watch other people. I learnt what was expected of me. I learnt how to behave in different situations. I learnt how to be organised enough to get through things. I learnt how to push through when I was overwhelmed.
And because those strategies often worked, at least from the outside, there wasn’t necessarily a reason for anyone to ask what was happening underneath. Being able to cope doesn’t necessarily mean something isn’t difficult.
Sometimes it means you’ve become very good at compensating.
The things I thought were personality traits
There were also so many things I simply thought were me.
I thought I was overly sensitive. I thought I overthought everything. I thought I was sometimes lazy. I thought I was either extremely motivated or completely incapable of getting started. I thought my need for certain routines was just a preference. I thought being exhausted after social situations was normal. I thought everyone replayed conversations in their heads. I thought everyone occasionally became completely overwhelmed by noise, people or too much happening at once.
I didn’t have a framework for understanding these experiences. So I didn’t question them.
School didn’t necessarily look like a problem
This is something I think is important to talk about. Being academically capable doesn’t rule out autism or ADHD.
You can be getting good grades, or passing and still be struggling enormously. You can hand in your assignments and still be spending far more energy than other people to get them done. You can be successful and still be overwhelmed. You can be described as responsible and still be struggling with executive functioning. You can look like you’re coping while using every bit of your available energy to do so.
Sometimes the question isn’t: Was I struggling?
It’s: How much effort did it take to look like I wasn’t?
Looking back changes things
After diagnosis, I started revisiting old memories. Not because I wanted to rewrite my childhood. But because I suddenly had another possible explanation for things I’d never really understood.
That process has been both validating and difficult. There is relief in understanding yourself. But there can also be grief.
You might wonder what would have happened if someone had recognised things earlier. Would I have understood why certain things were difficult? Would I have been kinder to myself? Would I have asked for different kinds of support? Would I have understood that struggling didn’t mean I wasn’t trying?
I don’t have answers to those questions. But I think they’re natural questions to ask.
Maybe people did notice something
There’s another possibility I’ve had to consider too. Maybe people did notice that I was struggling. Maybe they just interpreted it differently.
Instead of autism, it might have looked like shyness. Instead of ADHD, it might have looked like procrastination. Instead of sensory overwhelm, it might have looked like being sensitive. Instead of executive dysfunction, it might have looked like poor organisation. Instead of masking, it might simply have looked like being well behaved.
The behaviour was visible. The reason behind it wasn’t.
So, why didn’t anyone notice?
I don’t think there is one answer. Autism and ADHD can look very different from the stereotypes. People can become incredibly good at masking and compensating. Some difficulties don’t become obvious until the demands of life increase. And sometimes the signs are there, but nobody has the right framework to recognise them.
For me, the important part isn’t necessarily finding someone to blame. It’s understanding what happened and what I know now. Because knowing has changed the way I understand myself. And it has changed the way I think about other people too. Especially children.
What I notice now
As an early childhood teacher, having gone through this process has made me think differently about the children I work with. Not in a way that makes me want to diagnose children. Quite the opposite.
It makes me much more aware of how easy it is to see a behaviour without understanding what might be underneath it. A child who avoids something might not simply be “being difficult.” A child who struggles with transitions might not simply be “not listening.” A child who becomes overwhelmed might not be “overreacting.”
Behaviour is communication. And sometimes the most useful thing we can do is become curious about what that behaviour might be telling us. That is something I wish I’d been able to do for myself much earlier.
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