A late diagnosis is both a celebration and mourning. I feel I now have all the pieces to my life I always knew were missing. Everything has clicked into place, levels of me are now unlocked. But who am I? Without the mask, Who am I? Guess I get to find out, but alongside it I get to learn how I was mistreated just because I was misunderstood. I may seem more autistic now than I did as a child, but that's because I'm no longer hiding. I was never broken like I thought. I was never too much or not enough. I was just undiagnosed.