by 
Before my ADHD diagnosis, my mind was a puzzle I couldn’t solve.
Getting re-diagnosed with ADHD at 31 allowed me to start putting the pieces together, but some pieces still didn’t fit. I was finally able to explain my impulsivity, forgetfulness, and hyperfocus — yet other behaviors, like my need for structure, sensory sensitivities, and struggles with change, didn’t make sense in the context of ADHD.
I felt like I was missing something important.
Then, as I dove deeper into the world of neurodivergence, I started reading about Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD). I learned that it often coexists with ADHD, a condition the neurodivergent community affectionately calls “AuDHD.” Suddenly, those missing pieces began to fall into place.
How I Discovered AuDHD
Ironically, it was my work writing about ADHD that led me to AuDHD. Readers started commenting that some of my experiences didn’t sound like “just ADHD” — they suggested I look into Autism. I wasn’t sure at first. Like many people, I had outdated and stereotypical ideas of what autism looked like.
But curiosity got the better of me, and I started reading. The more I learned about AuDHD, the more my life started to make sense.
Here’s what I discovered:
- People are more likely to have co-occurring ADHD and ASD than to have them separately.
- The CDC reports that 28–44% of people with ASD also have ADHD. Other studies have estimated the overlap to be as high as 50–70%.
- Until 2013, clinicians couldn’t diagnose ADHD and autism together. The DSM-V finally allowed for co-diagnosis, which meant many people (like me) who had been diagnosed with only one condition had likely been living with both.
After reading countless articles, books, and Reddit threads about AuDHD, I finally took the RAADS-R screener — a self-report questionnaire designed to identify subclinical autism that often goes undiagnosed. I scored 158, which indicated “strong evidence of Autism.”
That was the moment everything changed. I wasn’t just an “ADHD mess” who struggled with things that didn’t fit the ADHD mold — I was living with both ADHD and Autism.
For the first time, my extremes made sense. ADHD pulled me in one direction — chaos, impulsivity, and distraction — while autism pulled me in another — order, routine, and control. I had been living with a constant internal tug-of-war between these two identities.
6 Surprising AuDHD Signs I Missed for Years
Looking back, the signs had always been there. I just didn’t know how to interpret them. Here are six of the biggest AuDHD indicators that I completely missed:
1. Extreme Sensory Sensitivities (and Seeking)
I always thought I was just picky. Certain textures, sounds, and smells could make me irrationally irritable or anxious. I hated tags on clothes, and loud environments drained me within minutes.
But I also craved sensory input — I needed weighted blankets to feel calm and had a borderline obsession with certain tactile experiences like running my fingers over soft fabrics. I learned that sensory seeking and avoidance are hallmark traits of autism, and my sensory profile was a perfect mix of both.
2. Intense Need for Routine (But Constantly Breaking It)
I love routine and structure. I thrive when I have a predictable schedule and clear expectations. But I also struggle to stick to routines consistently. I’d create a perfect system one week, only to abandon it the next because it felt too restrictive or boring.
This internal tug-of-war between craving routine (autism) and resisting it (ADHD) is classic AuDHD. My autistic side needs predictability, while my ADHD side craves novelty and variety.
3. Hyperfixation or Special Interests?
I’ve always had intense interests — hyperfixations that consumed me for weeks or months. I’d dive headfirst into a new hobby, learn everything about it, and then suddenly drop it without warning.
What I didn’t realize was that while ADHD hyperfixations tend to be short-lived and unpredictable, autistic special interests can be deep, intense, and lifelong. My love for certain topics (like psychology, musicals, and neurodivergence) wasn’t just an ADHD phase — they were special interests that had been with me for years.
4. Difficulty Transitioning Between Tasks
I’ve always struggled with task switching, even when moving from something I enjoy to something I want to do. I’d get stuck in one activity and feel physically uncomfortable shifting gears.
While ADHD often explains struggles with starting tasks (executive dysfunction), the intense discomfort I felt while transitioning from one task to another was more aligned with autism. Difficulty with transitions is a common autistic trait that had been hiding in plain sight.
5. Masking and People-Pleasing
I learned to “mask” my differences early. I observed people, mimicked their behavior, and worked hard to fit in — even when it exhausted me. I became a master of people-pleasing, which made it difficult for others to notice that I was struggling.
Masking is a common autistic survival mechanism, especially for women and AFAB (assigned female at birth) individuals, who are socialized to conform and blend in. It wasn’t until I learned about masking that I realized how much emotional energy I had spent trying to “act normal” for so many years.
6. Rigid Thinking and Difficulty with Change
I hated sudden changes to plans or deviations from my expectations. Even seemingly minor shifts in routine could leave me feeling anxious and off-balance.
This rigidity went beyond ADHD’s love of structure — it was a deep need for predictability and control that was rooted in autism. When plans changed, I didn’t just feel inconvenienced — I felt emotionally destabilized.
How Realizing I’m Autistic Changed Everything
Getting my AuDHD diagnosis didn’t change who I am, but it gave me permission to understand and accept myself in a way I never could before.
I stopped fighting my need for routine and allowed myself to build systems that supported both my ADHD brain’s need for novelty and my autistic brain’s need for structure.
I became more compassionate toward myself when I struggled with transitions or got overstimulated in loud environments.
And most importantly, I stopped trying to force myself to fit into a world that wasn’t built for me. I started advocating for accommodations, giving myself more grace, and finding ways to balance the unique dynamics of AuDHD.
For years, I felt like I was living in conflict with myself — chaos versus order, excitement versus control. But now I know that both sides of me, ADHD and autism, are valid. And by embracing both, I’m finally learning how to live in harmony.
