Could I Be Neurodivergent? The Question More Adults Are Asking

It usually starts with a moment of recognition.

Maybe you stumbled across a video online where someone described their experience of ADHD, and something inside you went quiet in a way it rarely does. Maybe a friend mentioned they had just been diagnosed with autism as an adult and, listening to them describe their life, you found yourself thinking — that sounds familiar. Or maybe you have spent decades wondering why certain things that seem effortless for others have always felt like swimming upstream for you, and you are finally starting to wonder if there is a name for that.

If any of this resonates, you are not alone. Across therapy offices, online communities, and social media platforms, adults are asking a question that previous generations rarely had the language or the opportunity to ask: Could I be neurodivergent?

What Does Neurodivergent Actually Mean?

The concept of neurodiversity emerged from the work of Australian sociologist Judy Singer in the late 1990s¹ and has since grown into a widely used framework for understanding neurological differences as natural variations in human experience rather than deficits to be fixed. Neurodivergent is now widely used as an umbrella term for people whose brains develop or function differently from what is considered neurotypical. It is not a clinical diagnosis itself.

Neurodivergence includes a wide range of conditions, among them:

• ADHD (Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder) — including inattentive, hyperactive, and combined presentations
• Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) — often referred to simply as autism
• Dyslexia — a learning difference that affects reading and language processing
• Dyspraxia (Developmental Coordination Disorder) — affecting motor coordination and planning
• Dyscalculia — a learning difference related to numbers and math
• Tourette Syndrome
• Sensory Processing Disorder

For the purposes of this post, we will focus primarily on ADHD and autism, as these are two of the conditions commonly identified — or, rather, missed — in adults, particularly those who were not diagnosed in childhood.

Why Are So Many Adults Being Identified Later in Life?

Late diagnosis is not a new phenomenon, but awareness of it has grown significantly in recent years. There are several reasons why so many adults are arriving at this question well into their twenties, thirties, forties, and beyond.

Diagnostic frameworks historically centered heavily on children, particularly boys. Early research on both ADHD and autism drew disproportionately from male subjects, producing diagnostic tools and frameworks that reflected male-presenting traits.^2,3 This created a narrow diagnostic picture that missed the many ways these conditions present differently across genders, ages, and cultural backgrounds. Women, girls, and people socialized as females have historically been dramatically under-identified, in part because they may be more likely to present with internalized or less externally disruptive symptoms. Where a boy might be flagged for disruptive behavior, a girl might be quietly struggling with anxiety, perfectionism, and emotional dysregulation — and never receive a second look. As one 2024 peer-reviewed study in Qualitative Health Research found, gender norms and stereotypes have contributed directly to the longstanding oversight and dismissal of women’s neurodivergence.⁴

Masking is real and it is exhausting. Many neurodivergent people (again, particularly women and those from marginalized communities) develop sophisticated coping strategies over time that allow them to appear neurotypical in most settings. This is called masking, and it is both a survival strategy and an enormous emotional drain. Research shows that the better someone is at masking, the easier it is for their neurodivergence to go unnoticed, and that higher academic ability is actually linked to stronger masking skills, meaning the people coping most effectively on the surface are often the ones flying furthest under the radar.⁵ People who mask effectively often do not look like they are struggling from the outside, which means they are frequently overlooked by teachers, doctors, and even therapists who are not looking beneath the surface.

The internet changed everything. For many adults, the first time they encountered a description of their own experience was not in a doctor’s office — it was online. Social media platforms, particularly TikTok and YouTube, have introduced millions of people to first-person accounts of what ADHD and autism actually feel like from the inside. While online content is never a substitute for clinical evaluation, it has opened a door for many people who had never before seen themselves reflected in a description of neurodivergence.

The pandemic was a turning point. The disruption of COVID-19 removed many of the external structures — routines, social obligations, environmental cues — that neurodivergent people had unconsciously relied on for regulation. Research published in Autism in Adulthood found that autistic and neurodivergent adults were particularly vulnerable to the negative effects of the pandemic due to pre-existing mental health disparities and unmet support needs.⁶ Without those scaffolds, many adults found themselves struggling in ways that could no longer be easily explained away, prompting a deeper examination of why.

Common Signs in Adults That Are Often Overlooked

Because neurodivergence in adults so often looks different from the textbook presentations associated with children, it is worth naming some of the more nuanced signs that frequently go unrecognized.

For ADHD in adults:

• Chronic difficulty with time management, often described as time blindness
• Hyperfocus on topics or tasks of high interest, paired with extreme difficulty sustaining attention on low-interest tasks
• A pattern of starting projects enthusiastically and leaving them unfinished
• Emotional dysregulation, intense feelings that arrive quickly and are hard to de-escalate
• A persistent sense of underachievement despite intelligence and capability
• Difficulty with working memory, forgetting what you were about to say mid-sentence, losing track of conversations, misplacing items constantly
• Chronic restlessness or an internal sense of always needing to be doing something
• A long history of being told you are not living up to your potential

For autism in adults:

• A deep, intense focus on specific interests or areas of knowledge
• Difficulty with unspoken social rules and the feeling of having to consciously calculate interactions that seem natural for others
• Sensory sensitivities to sound, light, texture, taste, or physical touch
• A preference for routine and a strong discomfort with unexpected changes
• Taking language literally and missing sarcasm, irony, or implied meaning
• Significant social fatigue after interactions, even ones that went well
• A lifelong sense of being fundamentally different from others without being able to articulate exactly why
• Difficulty identifying and naming your own emotions (alexithymia)

It is also worth noting that ADHD and autism frequently co-occur. A large-scale study from Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia found that ADHD was more than ten times as prevalent among autistic adults without intellectual disability as in the general population studied.⁷ Both conditions often appear alongside anxiety, depression, and other mental health concerns, sometimes compounded by years of unrecognized struggle.

Neurodivergence in Black and Brown Communities: A Story of Systemic Erasure

Any honest conversation about who gets diagnosed and who does not must reckon with race. The disparities in neurodivergent identification across Black and Brown communities are not incidental. They are the product of deeply embedded structural inequities in healthcare, education, and the diagnostic frameworks themselves.

The numbers tell a stark story. Research has documented longstanding racial and ethnic disparities in autism identification, with Black and Latino children historically less likely than white children to receive an autism diagnosis, even when presenting with similar symptoms.⁸ A large-scale analysis of over 849,000 patient records found that non-Hispanic white individuals were approximately 26% more likely to receive an ADHD diagnosis than non-Hispanic Black individuals, while Black individuals were substantially more likely to receive a conduct disorder diagnosis instead.⁹ These disparities have been documented across decades of research and remain an important concern in child mental health.

The “bad kid” misdiagnosis pipeline. One of the most damaging consequences of racial bias in diagnostics is the disproportionate labeling of Black and Brown children with Oppositional Defiant Disorder (ODD) or Conduct Disorder (CD) in place of ADHD or autism. Research applying Critical Race Theory to diagnostic practice has found that the very same behaviors that earn a white child a neurodevelopmental diagnosis and a path toward support often earn a Black or Brown child a behavioral label and a path toward punishment.¹⁰ As an article published in Pediatrics has argued, ODD diagnosis becomes racist when applied indiscriminately to racially minoritized children as a feature of the child rather than as a reflection of underlying neurodevelopmental difference, trauma, or co-occurring mental health challenges.¹¹ For the adults sitting in therapy today who were labeled defiant, difficult, or disruptive as children, this history matters because many of them were never defiant at all. They were undiagnosed.

Cultural context and the complexity of masking. Masking in Black and Brown communities carries an additional dimension that purely clinical frameworks often miss. Research published in Psychology Today notes that a Black adult who has spent years suppressing emotional responses while navigating racial discrimination may present with a calm, composed demeanor during a diagnostic assessment, a presentation that can be misread as the absence of neurodivergent traits rather than recognized as a highly practiced coping response.¹² The layers of racial masking and neurodivergent masking are not easily separable, and clinicians who are not trained to hold both simultaneously will miss what is actually happening.

Stigma, privacy, and community norms. Access to diagnosis is only part of the story. Cultural stigma around mental health in many Black and Brown communities creates a real and understandable barrier to seeking evaluation in the first place. Research has found that Black adults are significantly less likely to seek mental health care, with only one in three Black adults who need mental health support receiving it each year.¹³ Within many communities, there are long-standing norms of privacy, self-sufficiency, and resilience that can make reaching out for evaluation feel like an act of disloyalty or weakness. These are not character flaws. They are reasonable adaptations to systems that have historically done harm rather than provided care.

What this means for Black and Brown adults asking this question today. If you are a Black or Brown adult wondering whether you might be neurodivergent, it is important to know that your path to understanding may have been longer and harder not because your experiences were less real, but because the systems meant to identify and support you were not built with you in mind. Late recognition of neurodivergence in communities of color can reflect diagnostic bias, cultural stigma, systemic underinvestment in mental health resources, and clinicians who were not trained to see neurodivergence in Black and Brown bodies. Your experience is valid. Your questions deserve to be taken seriously. And you deserve a clinician who understands all of that context when you walk through the door.

What Getting Evaluated as an Adult Actually Looks Like

If you have been wondering about this for yourself, you might be uncertain about what comes next. The path to evaluation as an adult can feel confusing, especially when so much of what is written about diagnosis is aimed at parents of children.

Here is what the general process typically looks like:

Start with your primary care physician or a mental health professional. Share your concerns openly. A good clinician will take your questions seriously and can either conduct an initial screening or provide a referral to a specialist, typically a neuropsychologist, psychiatrist, or psychologist with expertise in neurodevelopmental conditions.

Comprehensive evaluation often includes a clinical interview covering your developmental history, current functioning, and how your symptoms present across different areas of your life. You may also be asked to complete self-report questionnaires and, in some cases, cognitive or neuropsychological testing.

Collateral information can be helpful. If possible, reports from family members who knew you in childhood, or old report cards and school records can provide useful developmental context. Many adults find the phrase “she has so much potential but does not apply herself” appearing repeatedly in their childhood documentation.

Diagnosis is not always the end of the road. For many adults, a diagnosis is the beginning of a process of understanding, one that can include therapy, coaching, medication (where appropriate), community connection, and the gradual unlearning of shame that accumulated over decades of not knowing why things felt harder than they should.

What Diagnosis Can and Cannot Do

A diagnosis can be genuinely life-changing. Many adults describe the experience of being diagnosed as one of the most clarifying moments of their lives, a reframe that finally makes sense of a lifetime of struggle, self-blame, and unexplained difficulty.

It can provide access to accommodations in workplace and academic settings. It can open the door to targeted, effective treatment. It can connect you with a community of people who understand your experience. And perhaps most importantly, it can offer a kind of internal permission to stop measuring yourself by a neurotypical standard that was never built for your brain.

Research from the World Economic Forum highlights how neurotypical workplace norms disproportionately disadvantage neurodivergent individuals, particularly women who have already absorbed the cost of living undiagnosed for years. A diagnosis does not just change how you see yourself; it can change what you are able to ask for and receive in the spaces you occupy every day.

But a diagnosis is not a cure, and it is not a complete answer. It is a starting point. The work of understanding how your neurodivergence shapes your life, your relationships, your work, and your sense of self is ongoing, and it is work that therapy is uniquely well-positioned to support.

How Therapy Fits In

Whether you are newly diagnosed, currently pursuing evaluation, or simply wondering whether neurodivergence might be part of your story, therapy can be a meaningful part of the process.

A therapist who understands neurodivergence can help you disentangle what has always been a neurological difference from what has become a learned behavior, a coping strategy, or a wound from years of feeling like you were failing at something everyone else found easy. They can support you in developing practical strategies for executive functioning, emotional regulation, and communication — not by trying to make you neurotypical, but by helping you understand and work with your brain rather than against it.

Therapy can also be a space to grieve. Many adults who receive a late diagnosis experience a complex mix of emotions, including relief, grief, anger, and sometimes a sense of mourning for the earlier version of themselves who struggled without support or understanding. Rebuilding identity after a late diagnosis is itself a clinical process, one that genuinely benefits from dedicated therapeutic support. That grief is valid and it deserves space.

A Final Note

I want you to know that asking “could I be neurodivergent?” is not dramatic. It is an act of self-inquiry that takes courage, especially when so many adults have been told for so long to simply try harder, pay better attention, or get it together.

You deserve to understand your own mind. And whatever the answer turns out to be, that understanding is worth pursuing.

¹Fung, L. K., & Doyle, N. (2021). Neurodiversity: The new diversity. In L. K. Fung (Ed.), Neurodiversity: From phenomenology to neurobiology and enhancing technologies (pp. 1–18). American Psychiatric Association Publishing. https://doi.org/10.1176/appi.books.9781615379514.lg01

²Attoe, D. E., & Climie, E. A. (2023). Miss. diagnosis: A systematic review of ADHD in adult women. Journal of Attention Disorders, 27(7), 645–657. https://doi.org/10.1177/10870547231161533

³Lai, M.-C., Lombardo, M. V., Auyeung, B., Chakrabarti, B., & Baron-Cohen, S. (2015). Sex/gender differences and autism: Setting the scene for future research. Journal of the American Academy of Child & Adolescent Psychiatry, 54(1), 11–24. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jaac.2014.10.003

⁴Craddock, E. (2024). Being a woman is 100% significant to my experiences of attention deficit hyperactivity disorder and autism: Exploring the gendered implications of an adulthood combined autism and attention deficit hyperactivity disorder diagnosis. Qualitative Health Research, 34(14), 1442–1455. https://doi.org/10.1177/10497323241253412

⁵O’Reilly, D. (2026). The late-diagnosed mind: ADHD and autism in adults. Psychology Today. https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/the-late-diagnosed-mind/202603/the-late-diagnosed-mind-adhd-and-autism-in-adults

⁶Capp, S. J., Mason, D., Colvert, E., Agnew-Blais, J., & Happé, F. (2022). COVID-19 and perceived changes to quality of life, anxiety, depression, and loneliness in autistic and other neurodivergent U.K. adults. Autism in Adulthood, 4(3), 233–246. https://doi.org/10.1089/aut.2021.0078

⁷Yerys, B. E., Tao, S., Shea, L., & Wallace, G. L. (2025). Attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder in Medicaid-enrolled autistic adults. JAMA Network Open, 8(2), e2453402. https://doi.org/10.1001/jamanetworkopen.2024.53402

⁸Mandell, D. S., Wiggins, L. D., Carpenter, L. A., Daniels, J., DiGuiseppi, C., Durkin, M. S., Giarelli, E., Morrier, M. J., Nicholas, J. S., Pinto-Martin, J. A., Shattuck, P. T., Thomas, K. C., Yeargin-Allsopp, M., & Kirby, R. S. (2009). Racial/ethnic disparities in the identification of children with autism spectrum disorders. American Journal of Public Health, 99(3), 493–498. https://doi.org/10.2105/AJPH.2007.131243

⁹Shalaby, N., Sengupta, S., & Williams, J. B. (2024). Large-scale analysis reveals racial disparities in the prevalence of ADHD and conduct disorders. Scientific Reports, 14, 25123.

¹⁰Ballentine, K. L. (2019). Understanding racial differences in diagnosing ODD versus ADHD using Critical Race Theory. Families in Society, 100(3), 282–292. https://doi.org/10.1177/1044389419842765

¹¹Legha, R. K. (2025). There Are No Bad Kids: An Antiracist Approach to Oppositional Defiant Disorder. Pediatrics, 155(2), e2024068415.

¹²Davis, C. (2024). Navigating neurodivergence: A guide for the BIPOC community. Psychology Today. https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/communal-healing/202408/navigating-neurodivergence-a-guide-for-the-bipoc-community

¹³Conner, K. O., Abusuampeh, D. K., Kosyluk, K., Tran, J. T., Davis-Cotton, D., Hill, A. M., & Brown, A. P. (2024). Mitigating the stigma of mental illness: The impact of story-telling in the Black community. International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health, 21(11), 1473. https://doi.org/10.3390/ijerph21111473

¹⁴Olusunle, A. (2026). The invisible workforce: How late neurodiversity diagnoses are costing women and economies. World Economic Forum. https://www.weforum.org/stories/jobs-and-the-future-of-work/invisible-workforce-late-neurodiversity-diagnoses-cost-women-economies/