37 years old. BCBA. Still didn't see it.
I had spent 17 years studying behavior, teaching other people's kids, training parents on evidence-based strategies. I was good at my job. And I had absolutely no idea that what I'd been managing, compensating for, and white-knuckling through my whole adult life had a name.
When I got the diagnosis, I felt two things at once: relief that there was a reason — and a strange grief for the years I'd spent working so much harder than I needed to, at everything, just to keep up.
It also cracked something open professionally. Suddenly I understood my clients differently. Not just what to target — but what it felt like to live inside the brain I was trying to help. That's not something you get from a textbook. And it changes the work completely.