I’m just gonna say it: I think we romanticize being diagnosed.

But don’t get me wrong: my life is much better now that I know (more of) what’s going on, but that doesn’t mean there are zero downsides to diagnosis.

When I was late diagnosed in 2021 at age 23 with ADHD (and around the same time that I figured out I was also autistic), my life was already a confusing mess.

My whole life I had dealt with:

• no consistent friends
• depression
• anxiety
• struggling to stay employed
• and many other things, too

That the labels “ADHD” and “autistic”… didn’t really help. Not at first, anyways.

But there were also some positives, too, like getting along with other neurodivergent folx and having heightened positive moods while engaging with my special interests.

Things weren’t all bad.

And with nuance like that, I thought it’d be a good time to sit down and write about all the things I miss about being undiagnosed—a perspective I don’t see often online.

Of course, I’ll also cover all the things I don’t miss, as there are at least two sides to every story.

Also: Keep in mind that this doesn’t apply just to AuDHD. If you fall under any aspect of neurodivergence, I hope these speak to you, as well.

All The Things I Miss About Being Undiagnosed

1. Feeling “Normal”

This is probably the most obvious aspect of being undiagnosed, but I miss the assumption that I’m just like everybody else. These days, I’m perfectly happy with not being neurotypical, but it was a hurdle I had to get over across the span of many years.

I miss the natural confidence I had in myself from assuming all others were like me. It made making friends really easy as a kid & preteen.

It wasn’t until I hit teenagehood that I started to really see the differences.

2. Not Understanding “Weird” Was An Insult

This falls in line with the last point, but it took me well into my 20s to understand that when people would call me “weird” growing up, they were trying to bully me.

Obviously it didn’t work, though. It went right over my head.

3. Fierce Courage

Call this general early adulthood or the unknowing of my limitations, but from 13-23, I was fiercely courageous. I had a delusional level of belief in myself that I could achieve anything I put my mind to, and that resulted in some pretty spectacular life experiences. I liked what I liked, didn’t try to fit in, and found many cool people because of that.

These days, I try to hold onto that piece of myself (that’s why I started this blog, after all), but with more lived experience comes failures, and those definitely get to me sometimes.

But there’s no shame in starting over, trying again, and failing. It’s all part of the process.

4. The Confidence To Make Friends

Before I was diagnosed, anybody that respected my boundaries could be my friend.

Now that I’m diagnosed, that list of boundaries seems to grow daily. They need to be trauma-informed, patient, willing to communicate directly, support my shortcomings, and so much more now that I know more about myself.

Before, it felt like anybody could be my friend.

Nowadays, the picking pool is smaller than ever.

All The Things I Don’t Miss About Being Undiagnosed

Life without a diagnosis wasn’t all good, though, of course. There are many things I don’t miss about being undiagnosed, too, like:

1. Not Having Words To Describe My Experience

As somebody who’s always been a writer, not having the words to explain my experience frustrated me my entire life.

Instead of shutdowns, I was ignoring.

Instead of task paralysis, I was lazy.

Instead of understimulation, I was selfish.

The list goes on and on.

Now that I have my diagnoses, explaining my experience to others is much easier, and because of that, my experience with others is much more peaceful.

Knowing yourself literally brings more peace and harmony.

2. Believing Others’ Perspectives Of Me

Before I was diagnosed, I would accept any label someone would give me—including ones like “asshole.”

I was searching for myself, and for so long I looked outside of myself to find those answers.

Well, no more.

Now that I’m diagnosed, I know there is much more to this human bean than any stranger or even friend could see.

3. The Burnout Cycle

I’ve talked about my 3-year burnout cycle before here.

My life was essentially clockwork from age 12 ’til 24: I’d spend 3 years working really hard doing well in school and achieving wonderful things. Then I’d just… crash. And burn. My skills would regress, I’d isolate more, and I’d lose friends because of it.

I used to think these were just cycles of depression. My doctors did, too.

But I know now that this is the burnout cycle, and I’m much more prepared to deal with it these days.

Let me know if you’d like a blog post about how I recovered from burnout this last time by commenting below.

4. Being Shutdown/In A State Of Chronic Freeze

Before I was diagnosed, I had no idea what an autistic shutdown was or what the PTSD modes of fight, flight, freeze, or fawn were.

Once I learned about them, though, I learned I’ve spent the majority of my life either “frozen” or shutdown.

I wasn’t attuned to myself, my body, or my deeper intuition.

I was living life on autopilot, simply going through the motions to get by and not much else.

Final Thoughts

These days, things are much better and easier for me, all thanks to my diagnosis.

Life IS better diagnosed—please don’t think this post means any different.

I just think it’s important to reflect on the past and realize how far you’ve come, and to create a narrative of positivity throughout all your life—not just some parts.

Do you feel like life is better diagnosed?

Leave a comment to let me know your experience.