If you found your way here, there is a good chance you have been asking whether you could be autistic. For some people that question is new. For others it has been quietly present for years, sometimes decades. You may have recognized yourself in a book, a podcast, or a video. You may have a son or daughter who was recently diagnosed and thought, that sounds familiar. A spouse or friend may have suggested it. Or you have carried a lifelong sense of being a little different without knowing why.
I work with adults across California who are at this exact point — in their twenties, in midlife, and in their seventies. They are usually not looking only for a diagnosis. They are looking for understanding. An assessment is one way to get it. It is not something anyone should feel pressured to pursue.
Ready to get started or have questions?
You have explained yourself as shy, awkward, insensitive, lazy, rigid, anxious, or bad with people — and the explanation never quite fit
Routine, sensory experience, communication, or intensely focused interests have shaped most of your life
You want to stop wondering, and you are not sure a formal assessment is the right way to do that
A child, partner, or friend raised autism, and the description fit better than you expected
Online questionnaires and videos have not settled the question
You recognized yourself in something you read or watched, and you cannot unsee it
Relationships have been confusing even though you care deeply about the people in them
Social situations leave you exhausted even when you enjoyed them
If several of these feel familiar, you are far from alone. Whether an assessment is the next step is a separate decision.
People often assume the purpose of an autism assessment is to answer one question: am I autistic? It is an important question. I do not believe it is the most important one. The question that interests me more is: how do I make sense of my life?
If autism provides the best explanation for the lifelong patterns we identify together, a diagnosis can be enormously meaningful. The diagnosis is still not the ultimate goal. The goal is understanding. Why certain experiences have always been easier or harder for you than they seem to be for other people. Why relationships have been confusing even though you care. Why social situations exhaust you even when you enjoyed them. Why routine, sensory experience, communication, or focused interests have mattered so much. And, perhaps most importantly, how to see yourself with greater accuracy and greater compassion.
Over many years of working with autistic adults, I have learned that people often spend much of their lives trying to explain themselves in ways that do not quite fit. Some conclude they are simply shy. Others think they are socially awkward. Some have been told they are insensitive when they were actually confused. Others come to believe they are lazy, rigid, anxious, difficult, or somehow bad with people. Sometimes those descriptions capture part of the picture. Often they do not.
When the explanation does not fit, people frequently blame themselves. They assume there is something wrong with them that they should have been able to overcome years ago. That becomes a heavy burden. One of the most rewarding parts of my work is what happens when people begin looking at themselves through a more accurate lens. Sometimes they feel relief. Sometimes they feel sadness for years spent misunderstanding themselves. Often they feel both. I have had people tell me: for the first time, my life makes sense. Not because the assessment changed who they were. They were the same person the day after as the day before. What changed was their understanding. Understanding changes how we interpret the past and how we approach the future.
I do not believe every person who wonders about autism needs a formal assessment. Some people read, reflect, and talk with people they trust, and eventually feel they understand themselves well enough. Others decide that although autism seems like a reasonable explanation, a formal diagnosis would not meaningfully change their life right now. Those are perfectly reasonable decisions. An assessment is not something anyone should feel pressured to pursue.
Many people reach a point where wondering is no longer enough. They have taken online questionnaires, read books, watched videos, and realized they are not looking for another opinion. They are looking for clarity. Whether the conclusion is that you are autistic or that something else better explains your experience, a thoughtful assessment lets you stop wondering and begin understanding.
The decision comes down to a personal question: would understanding myself more accurately help me live my life more fully? If the answer is yes, an assessment may be well worth considering. An autism assessment is not about putting a label on who you are. It is about understanding who you have been all along.
A book, a child’s diagnosis, a partner’s suggestion, a lifelong sense of difference. Naming what brought you here keeps the assessment tied to your life, not to a generic checklist.
Some people already have enough understanding. Some would not use a diagnosis. If that is you, we can say so. If wondering has stopped being enough, we proceed.
The evaluation covers how you have experienced friendships, communication, sensory life, routines, interests, work, and relationships from childhood forward. Online scores are information. They are not the decision.
At the end I explain what I found, how I reached it, and what it means — including when autism is not the best explanation. There is time for questions. The process is described on my adult autism assessment page.
Understanding is the goal. Therapy, couples work, workplace adjustments, or no further sessions are all legitimate outcomes. We choose based on what the assessment actually showed.
You do not have to be certain you are autistic to consider an assessment. You have to want a more accurate account than the one you have been carrying.
A brief conversation to clarify whether an assessment is the right tool
No pressure to pursue a diagnosis you do not need
If you proceed: questionnaires, three clinical meetings, and optional collateral input
Attention to masking, self-blame, and the explanations that never fit
A feedback meeting with the reasoning, not only a yes or no
Some adults leave the first conversation deciding to wait. Others are ready to stop wondering. Both are acceptable outcomes.
I’m Kenneth Roberson, PhD, a clinical psychologist specializing in adults with Autism Spectrum Disorder. I specialize in adult assessment and therapy for ASD and offer care exclusively via telehealth within California.
Telehealth only (no in-office visits)
Licensed in California only
Whether you’re seeking targeted skill-building, help navigating work or relationships, or a space to better understand yourself, therapy can help.
A: Yes. The initial conversation and the assessment itself are by secure video, from anywhere in California.
A: No. The useful question is whether a more accurate understanding would help you live more fully. Certainty is what the assessment is for.
A: That is a reasonable decision. Reading, reflection, and conversation are enough for some people. You will not be pushed to continue.
A: I am private pay only. I am happy to provide a superbill for potential out-of-network reimbursement.
A: Online questionnaires can be a useful prompt. They cannot settle a developmental question. A formal assessment looks at your history, your internal experience, and the pattern across a life, then explains the conclusion.
If the question will not leave you alone, I can help you sort out whether an assessment is the right next step. I work with adults across California through secure telehealth. The point is not a label. The point is understanding who you have been all along.
You do not have to rush. You also do not have to keep explaining yourself with a story that does not fit.
Ready to get started or have questions?