Ep 3: Preparing to Get an Adult Autism Evaluation - Self-study is Essential Homework (Part 2 of 3)

Show NotesEpisode details* Season: 1* Episode number: 3* Release date: 2026-04-23* Hosts:* Natasha Stavros, PhD — author of The Unmasking Diary and Burning Inside Out (coming to a bookstore near you in December 2026)* Sarah Liebman — licensed marriage and family therapist, ADHD-diagnosed, special interests all things neurodiverse* Audio Engineer and Composer: Noah Smith* Director: Linda Highfield* Duration: 00:29:18* Audience and tone: Educational, conversational, supportive; stigma-free exploration of neurodivergence, diagnosis, and self-understanding using personal experience as a case study* Summary: In this episode of Following the Threads, Natasha Stavros and therapist Sarah Liebman explore how self-study prepares adults for autism assessment. Drawing from Natasha’s late diagnosis, they discuss recognizing patterns like sensory sensitivities, emotional regulation challenges, and masked behaviors. The conversation highlights shifting from self-judgment (“what’s wrong with me?”) to curiosity (“what’s different?”), using tools like journaling, social reflection, and online resources. They emphasize that self-awareness not only improves diagnostic clarity but also builds self-compassion—whether pursuing formal diagnosis or self-identifying as neurodivergent.Key takeaways to prepare for a late diagnosis autism assessment* Self-study is an important step that includes exploring relevance through social media, reflecting on past experiences (maybe even with a trusted person), reviewing online free resources from trusted sources, or working with a therapist.* Revisiting the transtheoretical model from Episode 2 on the transition to pre-contemplation to contemplation and how it serves to normalize neurodiversity and support vicarious reinforcement without social pressure or judgement.* Self study plants the seeds of the growing momentum to shift the perspective from “why am I bad” to “what’s different. What happens when I look at things from the vantage point of a diagnosis, without shame or judgement.Resources and referencesThe 5-stages of change and what they mean to you describes the transtheoretical model of change from non-thought to thought by Prochoska and DiClimente.Organization for Autism Research: Free Guidebooks for FamiliesProsperHealth.io specializes in holistic adult autism assessment and resources.Don’t Miss Out - Early Access to the BookJoin our community of late-diagnosed adults learning to unmask. Subscribe to get the next episode of Following the Threads directly in your inbox. Upgrade to paid for early access to the book and other resources.Leave a review and share your own diagnostic journey to help others feel seen.Thanks for reading A Jester’s Musings! This post is public so feel free to share it.The Unmasking Autism Diary: Memoir Excerpt on Autism Speaks Through Self-Study (Part 2 of 3)I first started on the path of getting a diagnosis slowly. My friend kept mentioning how certain things that I did aligned with autism. I started creating a list. Now, I would never just make a list, it had to be systematic.I started with a simple google search, for which the AI reported that people with autism struggled with emotional regulation, repetitive behaviors, unique ability, social communication challenges, sensory sensitivity, learning differences, and special interests.My immediate reaction was to intellectualize how I may or may not fit into these categories. But, through time, my lists began to fill. I wrote down things as I organically discovered them. As my list of indicators grew, I wondered if I might actually qualify autistic.That’s when the researcher in me turned on. My friend sent me the diagnostic and statistical manual for mental disorders (DSM), for autism specifically. As I reviewed it, I felt even more confused. By the letter of what was written, I wasn’t sure if I qualified as autistic.After nearly three months, I decided to schedule an assessment. I felt very strongly that whether or not I was classified as autistic would be a coin toss. I was nervous about what the results might reveal – not because I feared a diagnosis, but I actually feared not getting a diagnosis. If I wasn’t autistic, what could explain all of the challenges I had disproportionately faced compared to my peers?The evaluation is very matter of fact- it is nothing like therapy. It is important to articulate the distinction between these two activities. In therapy, I feel like a collaboration between me and psychotherapist, in the evaluation, I felt like an object of study.Throughout the evaluation the psychologist interviewed me against the DSM. They listened to me recall stories of my childhood and present life, used questionnaires from me, my dad, and my husband to translate my experience into the rigid structure of the DSM. I will say that while deeply uncomfortable, I felt safe through this process.When my evaluation came back qualifying me as autistic, and they read the evidence supporting a designation within each criteria, I noticed that the metrics cited were aligned with how much time I had spent thinking about my experiences.When it came to repetitive behaviors and stimming, I didn’t qualify. I had never given much active thought to how much I controlled my body to meet expectations.Fast-forward nearly six weeks after diagnosis, I began to notice that maybe my original evaluation may not have been complete.My birthday is coming up, but we – my husband and I – couldn’t get a babysitter for that weekend. Instead, we decided to have a date night early. I chose to go to a musical at a local dinner theater. It wasn’t anything fancy, we live in middle America and it was a community theater, so tailor your expectations on skill level, but it was fun, entertaining, and it was just us.On the way to the event, we talked about my current processing of the diagnosis, what it means for me, my life, my job, and our family. I found myself getting pre-emptively defensive. He remained calm and engaged in the conversation.Upon getting to the event and being seated at our table, I began shaking my leg. Like a light bulb, I realized that I was stimming.I am deeply uncomfortable with emotional intimacy. I know that I need to do it, not just for my husband, but because it’s human nature to need connection. Knowing that, and actually engaging with emotional intimacy are two entirely different things.As I sat there becoming more conscious of the involuntary movement in my leg, I noticed a chill pass over me. I asked my husband for his jacket and immediately used it to cover myself. I knew that my desire to wear a down jacket twenty-four seven fit somewhere in the diagnostic criteria, but I hadn’t really ever tapped into the circumstances or my internal experience that resulted in me feeling comfort from the coat. I assumed it had to do with sensory stimulus, but I hadn’t identified it as protection from engaging with my emotions.It’s not that I don’t have emotions. Quite the opposite. My emotions are big and intense, and when I engage with them, bad things happen.This text is a snippet from my next book: After the Masquerade. For early access to the book and other resources, upgrade to a paid subscription. Get full access to A Jester's Musings at natashastavros.substack.com/subscribe