The painful duality of acknowledging my parents did the best they could raising an undiagnosed son but I have zero emotional connection to them.
My parents were supportive of me. My dad was an excellent provider at a job he loved and my mom kept our lives organized and safe. They were fair. As long as I got good grades and stayed out of trouble they basically let me do whatever I want.
But they never took a genuine interest in me or what I like. They mostly hated the music I liked. They thought video games were a waste of time. They'd ask me a question and then talk over me and change the subject as I was responding. I don't really remember them even once approaching me to engage with the things I cared about on my terms. The couple times I tried turning to my mom for emotional support following a breakup she made me feel worse. She kept the house immaculately clean but it was so quiet and cold (physically and emotionally). She tried to force me to do sports several times despite knowing I am asthmatic, allergic to everything outdoors and very uncoordinated. My dad was the type of person whose idea of a "joke" was just insulting you to your face. Death by a thousand cuts. By their own admission my dad was the type of father who only wanted to be present for the fun parts of parenting and none of the difficult parts of parenting. Frankly I wouldn't be surprised if he is also autistic.
Edit: forgot my mom actually did hit me and my brother a few times (spankings as punishment) so that was fucked up.