My only additional advice is to remain agile enough to the possibility that the new situation won't be a good-enough fit, either.
Honestly, with my own DD14, the years between age 9 and 12 were the worst.
Her asynchrony seemed to be at its zenith (or is that "nadir" LOL) during those years-- developmentally she was ALL over the map, and uneven even on a day-by-day basis. It was dizzying. She wanted to talk about black holes, subatomic particles, and time travel in one moment, and was throwing a sulky fit because she couldn't tie her shoes right in the next, then ten minutes later, was back to solving world problems and psychoanalyzing political figures.
NO WAY did any 'school' setting fit that profile, or even come close to nurturing it.
We eventually came to understand our role as a BUFFER between the abrasion produced by a "school system" that would/could never fit her needs, and our child who was struggling to fit into a space that really COULD not be nurturing to her in light of her own needs/ability.
There were bright spots, and I will say that keeping her in "school" through high school has taught her perseverance, (which perfectionists like her SORELY need to learn, particularly with mundane/boring tasks) and she has had a chance to experience some things which will allow her common social currency as an adult. Those were factors in our very deliberate consideration of whether or not the educational options available would be more beneficial/harmful to her. That's a real set of considerations with a child like this-- one who is SO thirsty for what they need intellectually, and SO out of synch with agemates and even intellectual settings that could give them what they need. A college campus was not going to be a good idea for a child who couldn't independently tie her own shoes or manage lunch on her own at nine, nevermind construct a reasonably coherent paragraph expressing her opinion on a reading selection/current event. Oh, she could TELL a group of adults about that opinion, and defend it quite handily, but putting it into a written form was another matter entirely.
KWIM?
I found my own epiphany on this subject to be deeply personal and highly idiosyncratic. I got there by quieting my own frenzy to consume data-data-data (by reading parenting books and expert opinions, etc. etc.), and once I'd passed through that data-acquisition phase, coming to terms with what "fit" my daughter, what didn't (and there was a LOT of that), and what was simply unknown because there are no expert opinions about "children like this" because there are not enough of them to make a good statistical sample for study.
They are all singularities when they are PG.
That was the moment for me personally. My DH and I had to admit that nobody could tell us the "right" thing. NOBODY. Because we knew more than anyone else what that meant, and if we didn't know, well... no sense looking for "the answer." It meant being quiet (in a spiritual kind of sense) and looking with unbiased eyes and love at the child we have.
I can't do that for anyone else's child. Only a loving parent can do it, I think.
I will warn you that this epiphany was borne of a LOT of anguish and distress, and a lot of very unpleasant soul-searching. It meant facing down some of the least pleasant/functional aspects of my own personality and my DH's. Sturm und drang, for sure.
It meant (for us) leaving the map entirely and figuring out what DD needed, and doing our level best to maximize that while minimizing damage to her.
Least-worst decision-making at its finest. Sadly, this is still HIGHLY imperfect with children who are very far from being like other human beings-- and PG children like this are very far from being like other people, and in many cases, far even from being very "like" other PG children, since they are all such singular people. You have to internalize that before you can let go of advice that is useless to you (though it might be evidence-based, and even quite GOOD advice for most children).
Does that help?
