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Why I Hid My Neurodivergence From Myself
I’d been blending in so well that I didn’t realize I was unique.
More than three months ago, I learned I’m neurodivergent. Autistic, to be exact. Me, a 58-year-old woman who earned a Ph.D. and ran a successful counseling practice.
At first, I could barely get my head around this revelation. To say I was shocked is an understatement. Shouldn’t I, as a psychologist, have had a reasonable idea of what constitutes an autistic person? Shouldn’t I have had an educated guess when it came to something so deeply personal?