October marks the fourth ADHD Awareness Month since my diagnosis, and as I look back, I realize that life is only now settling back into something that I would call “normal.”

Like many others diagnosed later in life, I discovered my ADHD amidst the chaos and stress of the pandemic. Since then, I’ve reoriented my career, recovered from shattering my shoulder, become a certified coach, launched an independent business, and survived a house move. At times, it felt like battling through a hurricane, but thankfully, two of the gifts that often come with ADHD—hope and resilience—guided me through it.

As I look back, I realize that it hasn’t been the ADHD symptoms that presented the biggest challenge. After all, I spent fifty years navigating life with undiagnosed ADHD, and found my own ways to manage it. The biggest challenge has been the way ‘being diagnosed’ impacted my identity—both in how others viewed me and in how I viewed myself. As Dr Ned Hallowell insightfully says, “The kidney doesn’t care if you call it sick, but the mind does. If you tell a person she has a mental disorder, you create a mental disorder; Not only in the patient, but in those who love her as well.” Without the right support around you the diagnosis can be more challenging that the condition itself.

Out of the blue

Like many late diagnosed adults I assumed everyone faced similar struggles. Diagnosis in women and girls was often missed because it shows up differently. So many of the struggles we’ve faced have been misunderstood or dismissed as personal failings. I discovered it when I was overloaded and overwhelmed during a work crisis. At that point, my tendency to forget things, ability to prioritise and get distracted became more of an acute problem. A colleague’s frustration —”You never listen!”—was the lightbulb moment that led me to seek a diagnosis.

Putting on Glasses

Learning about ADHD has been like putting on a pair of glasses. Halfway through reading The Secrets of the ADHD Brain, my life clicked into place. Suddenly, struggles with organization, focus, and feeling “out of tune” made perfect sense. But it also explained something else—my ability to hyperfocus and knock the ball out of any park when I’m passionate and interested in something. Dr. William Dodson explains this beautifully in his description of individuals with ADHD being equipped with an “interest-based motivation system.” Another explanation that captures it perfectly is Dr. Ned Hallowell’s metaphor that it’s like being equipped with a “Ferrari brain with bicycle brakes”.

Embracing ADHD

Now that I’ve understood and fully embraced my ADHD brain, I can appreciate the many positive ways it has shaped my life. All the successes I’m most proud of in my career – including the ability to innovate, be creative and problem-solve under pressure – isn’t despite my ADHD, but a result of it. Like Simon Sinek, I’ve come to recognize that ADHD is simply a different way of thinking. When we tap into its strengths and learn to manage its weaknesses, its a powerful tool for discovery, learning and growth.

At the same time, I’m not going to downplay the many challenges that ADHD’ers face, especially when they don’t have access to the right support. I’ve often felt frustrated with myself—why couldn’t I focus at will, why did I need a high pressure deadline to deliver, why did I often feel at odds with my own brain? The diagnosis didn’t erase or minimize these struggles, but it did help me understand, overcome and reframe them.

Learning more about ADHD has allowed me to develop strategies that work for me. I’ve stopped feeling like a failure for being able to use ‘standard’ solutions and started being kinder to myself. These aren’t character flaws; they’re just part of how my brain works. I’m not broken; I just process things differently, and I’m meant to be this way.

The Power of Community

One joy has been discovering and connecting with the wider neurodivergent community. There is something uplifting about connecting with people who understand what you’re going through and who are walking the same path. Sharing stories and strategies with other ADHDers has helped me feel less lonely, and more confident about embracing who I am.

Fortunately, a wise adviser suggested learning how to coach. As workplaces increasingly need support for neurodivergent individuals, they suggested this might open up new career possibilities. They were right – coaching others has not only deepened my understanding of myself but it has opened up new ways to help others. Coaching starts from the premise that people aren’t broken – they don’t need to “fix” themselves. Instead, coaches can help individuals and groups recognise the abundant resources they can tap into to drive themselves forward and make positive change. As neurodiversity coaches we help our clients find out how their unique brain works, how to uncover their strengths and harness them to their best advantage.

Finding Myself

Now that I’ve got over the shock my diagnosis is a gift – the key to finding myself. Thanks to my coaching journey I’ve learned how to turn my biggest weaknesses into my greatest strengths. I will always struggle with focus and organisation in some situations, but when I’m in the right environment, those same traits become my superpowers. 

ADHD is at the core of who I am, but I’m also a coach, a creative problem-solver, a connector, and someone who is constantly learning and growing. As Einstein once said, “Once we accept our limits, we go beyond them.”  My diagnosis does not limit me – rather it has given me the key to finding myself and reaching my true potential.

Turning Lemons into Lemonade

Although this journey has been challenging it has also created wonderful new adventures and opportunities. As neuro-minorities we are so much more than a medical diagnosis. I’ve reached the point where even I’m grateful for it. Without it, I might never have discovered my strengths or realized that I’m part of a much larger, supportive, and wonderful neurodiverse community.

If you’re starting out on your own or your child’s ADHD or neurodiversity journey, it’s understandable that you will be experiencing a washing machine full of emotions—confusion, relief, despair, and even fear. And there will be many challenges and struggles to face. But remember that you’re not alone and the diagnosis doesn’t have to define or limit you. With the right understanding, friendship and support it might it even hold the key to finding, defining, and empowering yourself.

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