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Parenting Different: Coming Late to Diagnosis

Extract from Parenting Different by Sarah Hayden

Text from Parenting Different by Sarah Hayden. Murdoch Books RRP $34.99While receiving a diagnosis as an adult can be a relief, it can also bring about many mixed feelings, including shame, embarrassment, confusion, joy, sadness, regret . . . all of which are fine, perfectly normal and to be expected. For me, receiving a diagnosis of ADHD at the age of 48 was a roller-coaster of emotions. It was while sitting in on Chloé’s ADHD assessment that I realised I, too, ticked every single box for ADHD. This was a lightbulb moment: she and I were similar in so many ways because our brains were made up of the same amazing, sparkly glitter. When I sat through her final appointment, where her diagnosis was confirmed, I actually asked the assessing psychologist (jokingly, but not really) if he could also provide me with a diagnosis. Sadly – and unsurprisingly – he said no. It was worth a shot! A few more years down the track, I finally decided to invest the time and money to officially pursue my own diagnosis, even though I was sure of the answer. I had struggled with feeling different for years, always wondering why some things seemed so much harder for me than for others. Getting an official diagnosis was like unlocking a door to self-understanding. It gave me the language to describe my experiences and helped me feel validated, not broken. Knowing I am neurodivergent allowed me to make sense of the ways I process the world. It’s not about labels; it’s about self-awareness, understanding, acceptance and empowerment, giving me the tools to thrive in a society that wasn’t built with my brain in mind.

We know that autism and ADHD tend to run in families, so if your child has been diagnosed, there’s a good chance at least one of the parents will be too. Whenever I talk to parents about this, I see them looking at each other trying to work out who passed it on. It used to be almost a blame game, but these days it’s more like a claim to fame! Well, as it turns out, in our family it was both parents (more on this below) – so I guess the odds of Chloé being neurodivergent were pretty high. Not long after receiving her ADHD diagnosis, plus having already been diagnosed with dyslexia in high school, my beautiful 22-year-old daughter Gemma also received a diagnosis of autism. To say I felt badly is an understatement. To miss that diagnosis for that long when I was an autism professional who educated people on autism, and had already been through the process with my first-born, made me feel like a pretty crappy mum. So if you are feeling bad about a late diagnosis, please don’t. There is such a huge variation in how neurodivergence presents – my two eldest daughters couldn’t be more different, and yet they are both autistic with ADHD. Like many autistic women, Gemma had learned to hide the signs of autism to fit in. She was an exceptional copycat and extremely high masker who appeared to cope very well with social situations. It was overwhelming anxiety that eventually led to her autism diagnosis. She was the typical little duck in the pond – appearing calm and gliding along on the surface but paddling furiously underwater just to stay afloat. We all need to acknowledge our efforts beneath the surface to promote a culture of transparency – one in which asking for help, revealing our hidden struggles and seeking support are not seen as signs of weakness or failure but rather courageous steps toward discovering who we really are and what we need.

When I finally received my own official diagnosis, I swung between feeling sad it had taken me 48 years to find out and regret for all those years when I could have understood my brain better. I particularly reflected on how my childhood could have been so much more positive had I, and others around me, understood me better. But ultimately I was happy, excited, proud and so relieved that I had received the diagnosis that not only gave me life membership to a pretty cool club, but also gave me – and those around me – the permission and the tools to better understand myself, and be myself. Getting an official diagnosis as an adult can feel overwhelming, but it’s a powerful step toward understanding yourself better. Start by reaching out to a professional such as a psychologist or a psychiatrist who specialises in neurodivergence. You can ask your primary care provider for a referral or do some research to find experts who focus on adults. There are many, many clinics set up solely for the purposes of autism and ADHD assessments. They can vary a lot in wait times and price, so it’s well worth doing some research. The process usually involves interviews, questionnaires and assessments of your personal and medical history. Be prepared for it to take time (and money), but remember, this is about gaining insight and access to the right support. The diagnosis can open doors to accommodations and resources, and, most importantly, a deeper sense of self-awareness. I want to add that – again, in Australia, at least – if you are wanting to trial medications for ADHD, you will need a diagnosis from a psychiatrist, rather than a psychologist’s assessment, to access those medications. If you do get diagnosed as an adult, some people in your life may question its validity. Many adults who are in the public eye and late diagnosed are slammed on social media for ‘coming out’ (hello, Em Rusciano) and asked why they suddenly ‘appear’ neurodivergent, or to be more obviously struggling, when they never have before. People will actually say things like, ‘You never used to be autistic!’ As if you suddenly woke up one day and decided to spend thousands of dollars seeking an assessment just for fun. The real answer is simple. When you are younger, you may have had more support and more capacity to handle life, as well as less pressure and more time to decompress. As you get older, the more there is going on, especially if you are a parent – work stress, kids, financial pressures, no downtime, expectations to meet neurotypical adult standards . . . the list goes on.

So people may ask if you are ‘faking it’ now, but the truth is you were probably ‘faking it’ before. And faking it, or masking, is only going to end in burnout, mental health issues and depression. Also . . . who the hell gave them permission to question your diagnosis? No one needs those people in their life. Don’t ever let anyone question you or your diagnosis: no one has this right. Some other people may ask, ‘Why bother getting a diagnosis now?’ Getting my diagnosis as an adult changed everything for me. It was like finally seeing the full picture after years of missing pieces. I stopped blaming myself for things I struggled with and started understanding why my brain works the way it does. It allowed me to embrace my strengths (and sparkles!) and find strategies to manage my challenges. More than anything, though, it gave me a sense of peace and validation – finally knowing there wasn’t anything ‘wrong’ with me, just that I process the world differently. It opened up new possibilities and new connections with others who share similar experiences, including my own husband and children, and it set me on a new career path. It truly changed the way I live my life – for me, it was nothing but positive. While writing this book I received a text from an adult friend telling me she had just been diagnosed autistic, and how it was a lot to take in and process. After first congratulating her on her awesomeness, I reminded her that she hasn’t just been diagnosed, but, rather, she has just discovered why her brain works the way it does, and now she can better understand it. How cool is that? And don’t we all deserve to fully understand and accept ourselves just as we are?

Shifting these relationship patterns isn’t an overnight process, of course. Navigating relationships after receiving an adult diagnosis of neurodivergence – whether your own or your partner’s – can feel like daunting unchartered territory, but it can also be an opportunity for growth and deeper connection. By taking some practical steps, it can actually strengthen your bond. Start by learning together. Read up on the diagnosis and explore how it may affect daily life, communication and emotional needs. This shared understanding helps create a foundation of empathy. Next, establish new routines or adjustments where needed. For example, if sensory sensitivities are an issue, you might adjust your living space to be more comfortable. It’s also crucial to check in regularly, so set aside time to discuss how things are going, and if any new strategies are helping or need tweaking. Remember, there is likely to be a grieving process for both people – receiving a diagnosis as an adult can be challenging to hear. Not because it’s a bad thing, but it can be hard to know you have gotten to a certain age without knowing who you are and what support you really needed. Be open to seeking outside support, such as couples therapy with a neuro-affirming therapist, to help navigate the challenges together. Embrace the fact that this diagnosis can offer clarity and tools to make your relationship more adaptable and resilient. Some things that bug you about your partner may stem from unmet needs, in which case a diagnosis can offer better understanding and support. These might include:

  • Forgetting plans or important dates: this may come from difficulties with executive functioning or memory. A diagnosis can help explain the need for reminders or external organisation systems and stop you from attributing their behaviour to carelessness.
  • Difficulty expressing emotions: understanding that your partner may struggle with emotional regulation, or have a different way of processing feelings, can highlight the need for clearer, more direct communication strategies.
  • Needing alone time or retreating from social situations: this can stem from sensory overload or social exhaustion. A diagnosis helps frame this as a necessary recharge rather than a lack of interest in spending time together.
  • Being hyperfocused on a task or hobby: this intense focus might be linked to how your partner’s brain processes stimulation. Recognising this through a diagnosis shows they are not ignoring you, or choosing their hobby over you, but is instead about how they manage their focus and energy.
  • Rigid routine or resistance to change: this could come from a need for predictability to reduce anxiety. A diagnosis helps explain this as a coping mechanism, which can encourage you to take a more supportive approach when changes are unavoidable.

Understanding neurodivergence in a relationship can be transformative, offering new insights into behaviours that may have caused frustration in the past. A diagnosis provides clarity, revealing that many of these challenges stem from unmet needs rather than a lack of care or effort. With this knowledge, you can approach your partner with more empathy and adjust your expectations to fit their unique needs and strengths. Ultimately, this deeper understanding can foster healthier communication, greater patience and a stronger, more supportive relationship. It’s not about fixing your partner; it’s about learning to navigate life together with mutual respect and compassion.

Your time to shine 

Interestingly, around the time I received my diagnosis, I started unashamedly covering myself in glitter when I went out – and Mama Glitter Tits was born. I also embraced wearing the earrings I had always loved and admired on other women but lacked the confidence to wear. Big, bold earrings with incredibly bright colours and sparkles that demand attention. The kind of earrings that, when I wear them now, other women stop me admiringly and say, ‘Oh my gosh, I love your earrings! I always wanted to be the kind of woman to wear those earrings, but I just can’t get away with it. But you absolutely can!’ The kind of earrings that say ‘I am confident. I am comfortable in my own skin. I am not going to hide away or dull my sparkle.’ It was such a revelation that I had spent 48 years trying to make myself smaller, quieter, more demure. Suddenly I had permission to be myself. I was no longer going to deny myself the simple sparkly pleasures in life – it was my time to shine. Just as I had always encouraged my own kids to proudly and authentically be themselves, so, too, was I giving myself that permission. And now I give you the same permission – glitter up, pop in those huge ‘look at me’ earrings, swipe on the bright red lipstick, wear the dopamine-rush candy-coloured clothes, or whatever else it is that you love but don’t do for fear of being ‘too much’ . . . now it’s your time to shine, baby! Rediscovering your authentic self after your diagnosis is like peeling back layers you didn’t even know were there. For years, you have likely been masking and adapting to fit into a world around you, trying to be what you think you should be. But once you receive a diagnosis, you can give yourself permission to explore who you really are beneath all of that. Start by paying attention to what genuinely makes you happy, the environments where you thrive, your passions and strengths, and how you can honour your needs without guilt or shame. It’s a journey of self-compassion, where you can learn to embrace the parts of yourself you once tried to hide. There is nothing more empowering than finally living authentically. It’s about unlearning old patterns, embracing your neurodivergent traits and living in a way that feels the most true to who you are. It has taken me a very long time, but since my diagnosis I can now recognise and celebrate my ADHD strengths, which I know are also admired by others. While I still struggle to make and keep friends, I have a very small but close-knit circle, and that’s all I need. My many awesome ADHD superpowers that benefit me daily include:

  • Abundant energy: I have five kids, a busy, stressful full-time job, I study, I write, I volunteer and keep a clean house (I can’t stand mess it makes my head messy). Not to say I don’t get exhausted sometimes – I do – but for the most part, I have enough energy to juggle all the balls and channel this towards success and a life I love. I get bored so quickly, so my brain needs constant stimulus and excitement. After all, a sparkly rainbow brain needs a sparkly rainbow life!
  • Spontaneity: I love to keep things exciting and hate the mundane. I turn impulsivity into spontaneity, which makes me a pretty fun person to be around. It is not unusual for me to suddenly buy a new car, a new dog, a new house, book a trip, sign up to a university degree . . . things that others think about for years I do on a whim . . . did someone say dopamine rush?
  • Excitement and enthusiasm: I have such a zest for life. I get so excited about things that I get intense bursts of speed, enthusiasm and determination, all of which contribute to high energy levels to get all the things done. Admittedly, they’re often done at the last minute, but still . . . all the things do get done.
  • Creativity: my imaginative, busy and creative mind is always dreaming up new ideas and new ways to do things. I am original, artistic and creative.
  • Ability to hyperfocus: I can become so intently focused on a task, I don’t even notice what is going on around me. I have the ability to work on something until its completion without breaking concentration, even if it means going all night, not eating or having a toilet break . . . wait that’s probably not totally a positive, is it?

I have so many awesome qualities and quirks that are highly valued and admired. There is not a day goes by when people don’t stop and ask me how I can do all I can do, nearly always with a smile on my face and a positive attitude. I am known as Super Mum (or MGT), and I am always asked my secrets. I used to shrug my shoulders and say humbly, ‘Oh I don’t know, it’s just me,’ but now I answer: ‘ADHD is my superpower!’ And it’s the truth. It’s not all positive, of course. There are a few things I struggle with, like time management (hi, and apologies to my editor!), concentration, staying on topic, budgeting, the occasional shopping addiction. But hey, I would rather focus on the positive than the negative – I wasted far too many years being negative, and it’s now my time to shine. Pass the sequins, the glitter and the big earrings, baby! If you suspect you’re neurodivergent (and even if you aren’t), I want you to sit down and write your own list of your superpowers. Ask friends and family for help in pointing out those things they love about you. It’s such an important part of the journey to recognise and embrace every part of you, especially when you’ve likely spent a whole lifetime trying to squash those traits. The added bonus of celebrating your full self is that you’ll be modelling how to do it for your neurodivergent kids. It’s win-win. If you’ve recently been diagnosed, just know that your neurodivergence is not something to fix – it’s something to celebrate. You, too, have unique strengths, or ‘superpowers’, that are part of who you are. Whether it’s hyperfocus, creativity, problem solving or simply seeing the world from a different perspective, these traits are valuable. Embrace them. Lean into what makes you different, because that’s often where your greatest talents lie. The world needs neurosparkly minds like yours, and learning to honour your strengths will help you thrive. Its not about fitting into someone else’s mould – it’s about discovering and celebrating what makes you truly exceptional.

Text from Parenting Different by Sarah Hayden. Murdoch Books RRP $34.99

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