Kait's Story - ADHD and redefining success

I grew up knowing I was a little different.

I was the kid who hyper-fixated on animals, who felt everything deeply, sometimes to a fault. I was endlessly creative, always finding new ways to express myself. And I talked—a lot. Fast, excited, constant. At three years old, it was seen as cute and endearing. Adults laughed, calling me bright and expressive.

But as I got older, those same traits became a problem.

What was once “cute” turned into “disruptive.” My energy, my voice, my constant need to engage with the world around me started to be seen as distracting. I was often sent out of the classroom for walks—not as support, but as a way to give the teacher a break from the talkative kid. At first, it felt like a small thing. But over time, it added up. I was missing more and more class, falling further behind without even realizing why.

Being a girl with ADHD made it even easier to overlook. My behaviours were brushed off as quirks, personality traits, or things I just needed to “try harder” to fix. Instead of support, I got comments: lazy, distracted, not applying herself.

Eventually, I started to believe them.

I remember sitting in Grade 1 and thinking I wasn’t going to amount to anything—that I just wasn’t as capable as the other kids in my class. Grade 1. When I think about that now, it breaks my heart. No child should carry that kind of belief so early in life.

I wasn’t diagnosed with ADHD until I was 14, after a few visits to the guidance counsellor’s office, my counsellor noticed a pattern with my transcript comments from past teachers and I was referred to doctors for testing. I can’t fully put into words what that moment felt like. For the first time, I felt seen, not as the “problem,” not as the narrative others had created, but as myself. A compassionate, creative girl who was struggling in a world that wasn’t built for the way her brain worked.

That diagnosis changed everything.

Over the next few years, I began to learn coping strategies. With support, structure, and an Individual Education Plan (IEP), my grades improved dramatically—from a 65 average to a 92. But more importantly, my self-worth began to heal. I started to understand that I wasn’t incapable—I just needed different tools.

As I got older, though, my ADHD didn’t disappear. It evolved.

What once looked like fidgeting, talking, and classroom disruptions started to show up in new ways: job hopping, feeling constantly unsatisfied, struggling with consistency, and being outspoken- Again, sometimes to a fault. I still had that same energy, that same fire, but without the right outlet, it often worked against me.

And once again, I found myself doubting who I was and what I was capable of.

Eventually, I made the decision to explore medication. It wasn’t an easy choice, but it was the right one for me. Combined with the coping strategies I had developed over the years, it changed so much. For the first time, I felt like I could channel my energy instead of being controlled by it.

I learned how to adapt—not by changing who I was, but by understanding myself better.

And somewhere along the way, something shifted.

I stopped seeing my ADHD as something that made me “less than,” and started recognizing the beauty in it. My passion, my empathy, my energy—those things didn’t hold me back. They pushed me forward. They became my strength.

Today, I’ve found my career path and passion in not for profit and education, and I’m a mother to two beautiful daughters, both of whom also have ADHD. And that has given my journey an even deeper purpose.

I’m determined not just to succeed for myself, but to show them what’s possible for people like us.

I want them to grow up knowing that just in because things might be harder, just because they may struggle in ways others don’t, it does not mean they are any less capable. It does not mean they won’t succeed!