Tell me you're not an autistic woman without telling me...
Female puberty was traumatic for me, with tits and body hair and bleeding and cramps and suddenly being sexual prey. Male puberty would have been traumatic for me, with testosterone surges and body hair and random erections. I still, in my forties, feel like my breasts are parasitic growths that aren't actually part of me.
At six, I asked my mother if cutting my hair short would make me a boy, because I wanted to be one as I could see even then that men and boys get an easier ride through life. If I'd been male, at least that would have provided me with some protection from sexual assault and immunity from pregnancy.
You really have no idea just how little women, eapecially autistic ones, have a sense of "gender identity", assuming that "gender identity" is even real, which I doubt.
If gender identity was a real biological thing, it would look the same throughout history and across cultures. Yet women in different cultures and periods in history behave and dress differently, as do men. I don't have tattoos on my chin, yet Maori women do. My male colleagues don't wear embroidered green velvet minidresses, yet Henry VIII did.