Years ago, my brother went in for an autism evaluation. He sat in the chair, answered the questions, and did his best to be polite.

The tester noted that he made "good eye contact" and concluded that he couldn't be autistic.

He was sent home without a diagnosis and without the support he needs.

It wasn't until years later that my brother told us the truth:

"I wasn't looking at his eyes. I was staring at his nose the whole time because I knew I was supposed to look at his face."

He wasn't neurotypical; he was masking and working overtime to fit a mold that didn't fit him.

Today, my brother is an adult. He is smart and capable, but he struggles to maintain a job, feels overwhelmed by driving, and battles anxiety and depression daily.

He needs accommodations to succeed as an adult, but to get those accommodations, he first needs an official autism diagnosis.

When we tried to get him tested again, we hit a wall: the 12-month waitlist.

We realized that for adults in Utah, the door to help is effectively locked. Most people either wait a year for a university appointment, or give up entirely.

Watching someone you love struggle isn't just frustrating—it's unacceptable.