Autistic Assessment is broken. We need to fix it. Fast.

I’m telling you, it’s not working. The entire autism assessment model? It is broken. Utterly. And we need to fix it. Now.

Because the ambient bullshit, the insidious stigma wrapped around autism… it’s doing more than just hurt autistic people. It's actively destroying the very pathway to understanding ourselves. It’s shattering the trust in a system that should be built on clarity, not convenience for the diagnosticians.

Every single damn day, I see it. People, truly extraordinary people, trying to make sense of a lifetime of feeling fundamentally different, finally gathering the courage to seek an assessment. And what happens? They get brushed aside. Shut down. For reasons so utterly idiotic they could only come from a place of entrenched ignorance and fear.

“They can make eye contact.” (Oh, so you mean they’ve spent decades learning to mask their discomfort, their overstimulation, in a world that shames them for looking away?)

“They have friends.” (Because friendship is an exclusive club, perfectly curated, and certainly not something we, as neurodivergent adults, spend immense energy analyzing, mirroring, and, yes, desperately wishing for genuinely authentic forms of connection?)

I’m sick and tired. Exhausted. Of the pathologizing gatekeepers murmuring about, "We don't want to risk to label them."

Risk? Let’s talk about risk for a second.

What is the actual risk in an accurate diagnosis?
A. Clarity?
B. Self-acceptance?
C. A tailored support system that genuinely eases a decades-long struggle with burnout and overwhelm?
D. Finally, finally, making sense of a life that felt like navigating a maze blindfolded?

There is no risk to a label—a truthful label—if we dismantle the stigma that surrounds it, you see?

The label itself isn't the problem. The misunderstanding is.

The decades of shame, the ableist narratives, the complete, utter lack of nuanced comprehension for a profound neurotype.

Think of it like this: A container. A substance inside. How do you know how to handle it? How do you keep it safe? How do you (or others) interact with it beneficially? It’s simple. You look for the label. The label tells you what’s in there. It tells you the instructions. It tells you how to take care of the thing. It simplifies. It protects. It guides.

The risk isn't in knowing what you are. The risk is in not knowing. The risk is in being misdiagnosed for years, piling on treatments for conditions you don't truly have, exhausting your energy trying to conform to a neurotypical standard, internalizing shame about traits that are simply part of your wiring. The real risk is a lifetime defined by masking and misunderstanding, leading to autistic burnout so severe you spend years recovering.

That’s the risk. Not the "label." Never the label itself.

It’s the societal narrative that turns a descriptive term, a key to self-understanding, a blueprint for thriving, into a perceived scarlet letter.
We are past that. We have to be past that.

We need to redefine assessment, not as an indictment, but as an integral, fundamental step towards self-liberation and sustainable well-being. And we need to hold our assessment systems accountable. Those tired, outdated boxes—the ones that don’t even begin to comprehend the nuances of masking, of neurodivergent sociality, of lived experience—they’re holding us back.

The time for paternalistic fear around "labeling" is over. It’s time for radical honesty. It’s time for systems that truly serve the individuals they claim to help, rather than perpetuate layers of generational ableism.

It’s broken. And every single second we wait, it’s hurting real people. People who are ready to finally, truly, understand themselves. We simply cannot afford to fail them anymore.