Split for the sake of not mixing autism with transgender issues. Talk about disconcerting.
You could make a case that my brother grew up with autism and nobody knew it. He was quiet, talked late, loved numbers and statistics from an early age. When he was six or seven he derived the formula for the sum of a series in order to figure out what the maximum score he could get from a handheld game would be. My dad asked him what he was writing (when you see a second-grader scribbling complex series of numbers on a napkin I guess it piques your curiosity) and he said, "well, you could add up all these numbers individually, but when I did this (mathemagical thing I don't understand) it came out to the same thing. Now I'm trying it with other numbers to see if it always works."
As an older kid, he would take matchbox cars and line them up in "race formation" around the kitchen table. He'd push each one forward in turn, measure the distance, and write it in a notebook. I guess he was ostensibly looking for patterns as to which car went furthest with the least applied force? As a teenager, he'd sit with two, three, or four dice and roll them over and over, each time writing the result in a single neat column in his notebooks. He said he was testing the law of probability.
Notebooks were a big part of his young life. He had stacks of them, all filled with some different kind of statistic on everyday objects. He kept stats on all his video games, his favorite sports teams (all players), etc. As he got older and the notebooks piled up, it got to where nobody really knew what was in them any more -- but not in a creepy way, just in the way that the previous incarnations of notebooks had been so boring nobody cared to look at the later ones.
He was also a four-sport athlete and got a soccer scholarship to a private college, where he studied -- of all things -- statistics. He is now the most beloved math teacher at the high school from which he graduated, coaches the girl's varsity soccer team, has a master's degree in counseling, and often meets with kids after school to discuss their personal problems, even if they've never taken his classes. So to anyone else, he looks very normal and, if anything, exceptionally compassionate towards others.
It's hard to tell, from an adult standpoint, if he has autism. But I bet if he'd been born twenty years later he'd have been diagnosed with it. And I can't help but wonder what kind of impact that would have had on his later life. Would he still be a teacher? Would he have gone on to greater things? Or would his incredible talent for statistics have been crushed under his efforts to "act normal?"
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