It is widely thought that ADHD causes a lack of focus. It’s even right there in the name: “Attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder.” While difficulty concentrating is a common symptom, it is often the result of us being focussed on something else. In fact, ADHD can also cause something called hyperfocus, which cognitive neuroscience specialist Kathleen Hupefeld and her colleagues (2019) describe as “episodes of long-lasting, highly focused attention.” They explain that in clinical reports, many patients describe a hyperfocus episode as “falling under ‘hypnotic spells’ as they become immersed in an activity,” especially if it is something related to their hobbies, and that patients often experience “distorted time perception, failure to notice the world, and difficulty stopping an activity and switching to a new task” during these episodes. (Hupefeld et al. 2019).
Unfortunately, we cannot control what we hyperfocus on, which means it can often hinder productivity instead of helping it. This is why at six years old, my little brother—who also has ADHD—could not sit down for ten minutes to do his homework, but would go sit alone in his room, start a 5000-piece LEGO Star Wars set, and not come out until 5 hours later when it was done. Later, he also began playing guitar. What started as one lesson a week quickly spiralled into playing for hours on end every day. While people with ADHD are known for cycling through hobbies at a rapid pace, this one has stuck for him. When he is not playing, he is thinking about the next time he can play. It is the first thing he wants to do when he wakes up and the last thing he does before he goes to bed. Unfortunately for me, he chose to take up the electric guitar and purchased an amp whose quietest setting is “deafening.” It makes me miss the Lego days!
While hyperfocus can hinder us from focusing on the tasks or conversations that we “should” be doing, it can also be a superpower and a gift (I know that the “ADHD is a superpower” sentiment can feel corny and cause eye-rolls, but stick with me). It encourages—or almost forces us—to pursue careers and life paths that bring us the most joy in order for us to be successful. For example, my brother’s ability to hyperfocus on building complex LEGO structures has evolved into a passion for engineering. He is entering his second year of (the very competitive) Queen’s Engineering program, with very impressive grades from his first year and an excitement to build his knowledge and work on new projects. Additionally, through his countless hours of practice over the last decade, he has become an extremely gifted guitar player. He even started a band (where he is the lead guitarist), and he won first place in a competition for talented Queen’s guitarists.
Now let’s look at the second half of the name: “Attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder.” People with ADHD are supposed to be zooming around from task to task and jumping off the walls, yet why do we often feel so stuck? Why do we frequently get accused of being lazy? Not only are there misconceptions about ADHD, but there are also certain aspects of the disorder that many people are either unaware of or mistake for something else.
Executive dysfunction is a challenge that many people with ADHD experience, but that is not widely known about or understood by people who are unaffected by ADHD. Essentially, it is the ability to maintain control and appropriately problem-solve to work towards and achieve a desired goal (Sonuga-Barke et al., 2008). So what happens when those circuits malfunction? For those with ADHD, that can often look like disorganization, time-blindness, emotional dysregulation, forgetfulness, and decreased response inhibition, which Dr. Sonuga-Barke (2008) explains is “the ability to inhibit an inappropriate . . . response in favor of a more appropriate alternative.” People with ADHD also often experience task paralysis, where you struggle to initiate a task, often because it is boring or overwhelming. Combining decreased response inhibition with task paralysis can explain why you may really want to go to bed at a good time, and you know you have to be up early, but instead, you sit on the couch watching Love Island for hours. You tell yourself, “I just want to start the next one to see what happens after that cliff-hanger, and then I will turn it off,” but then 50 minutes later you click “next episode” again. And again. And again. And you can’t even enjoy it. As Dr. Sharon Saline explains, “Shame and pressure only make paralysis worse, while compassion and structure help create sustainable pathways to move forward” (2025). Before I understood what was happening to me, shame and pressure were my go-to responses. You lie there and feel tired and ashamed and frustrated and guilty and stressed about all the sleep you should be getting and how tired you will be the next day and how you told yourself you weren’t going to do this tonight. “JUST GET UP!” you think, while you stay all curled up in the blankie.
It is difficult to describe what executive dysfunction feels like to someone who doesn’t have ADHD using simple everyday tasks that they get done with ease, so instead I will explain it using an impossible task: What if I told you that I am currently holding a $100 bill? Now, I am feeling generous today, so I am going to give this $100 bill away for free. It is yours for the taking; all you have to do is take it out of my hand in the next 5 minutes. That seems easy enough, right? Or it would be, if this were not a written blog post and you were actually sitting right in front of me. So, you see, even though I am telling you that you can easily come and take this money from me, and you really want to do it, it is physically impossible for you to come get it. However, in this hypothetical scenario, I have offered to everyone else that I will e-transfer the $100 to anyone who sends me an email, and nobody knows that you were not given this option. People are not going to see why you could not take the money; they will only see that you chose not to. So, they will accuse you of being lazy, unmotivated, not caring, not trying, and eventually you may start to believe it yourself. Now imagine that $100 is getting an assignment done, making a doctor’s appointment, going to the grocery store, turning off TikTok to do something productive, even everyday tasks as simple as getting out of bed, hopping in the shower, or making a meal. It is not that we do not want to do these things or that we are too lazy, or unmotivated, or do not care, or do not try. It is not always a choice. It can feel like there is an actual barrier keeping us from doing these tasks, which most people do not understand because, to them, the barrier is not just invisible; it is non-existent.
I did not get my ADHD diagnosis until I was in Grade 11. Up until then, I could coast. I relied on my smarts and–most importantly–the rush of the last minute to compensate for my disorganization, poor time management, avoidable mistakes, (and what I thought was) lack of motivation and laziness. This worked for a while, but then the workload and the expectations got bigger, and all of a sudden, I was drowning instead of coasting. The thing is, I was motivated; my grades mattered to me, and I wanted to do well, so what was the issue? After I completed my ADHD assessment, my psychologist told me that it was a credit to my intelligence that I had been doing as well as I had been given, given how low my executive functioning scores were. I started to see an executive functioning coach to help me turn it around, as I knew that I would need to get a handle on this if I was going to succeed in university. She was very nice, and she gave me plenty of good tips, but there was just one problem—she had knowledge of executive dysfunction but no lived experience. This meant that she could provide great tips for getting organized and improving my time management, but strategies only work if you can get yourself to do them. I found myself spiraling even more into the “why can’t I just…” mindset that plagues so many who experience executive dysfunction. I felt hopeless.
Once I entered university, I realized that I would need to come up with my own strategies that would work for me. It took plenty of trial and error, but I learned how to work with my ADHD. I found a routine that worked for me. I made time-lapses of myself studying or completing assignments to keep me off my phone and keep me accountable. I made Kahoots instead of Quizlets because they were more fun, and they encouraged me to make friends in my classes so I would have people to do them with. One day, I had a strong desire to paint my nails, but I really needed to study. Rather than letting this side quest get me off track, I used this for motivation, painting one nail after completing each practice question (4 coats x 10 fingers = 40 completed questions). Once I ran out of nails to paint, I drew flowers all over a page and got to colour in one petal each time I completed a small task until the whole page was full. I was always the kid who would doodle all over her homework, so it is no surprise that this worked well for me. I ended up making it a regular part of my studying and schoolwork, and I now have a notebook full of flowers that serves as a reminder of how much I was able to get done. While I personally do not find body doubling helpful for schoolwork (because I am a people watcher and a talker), I find it very helpful for other daily tasks. I am a yapper, so calling my friend while putting away my laundry means that I can be focused on the conversation and my body can go into autopilot for putting away my clothes. I hate disappointing people, so I make plans with (particularly disciplined and reliable) friends to go to workout classes together. I even have a friend who is 3 hours behind in Vancouver that I FaceTime whenever it is past midnight, and I need help getting off the couch but everyone else is sleeping–we do “3, 2, 1, Up!” and then I show her I am standing. It works every. single. time. I do have to give credit to my daily dose of Vyvanse, but as many ADHD-med-takers know, it is not a miracle drug–we need strategies that support our functioning, and it's all about finding the strategies that work for you.
Conclusion
Most days, ADHD feels like a curse more than it feels like a blessing, but when you learn how to work with it, you become an unstoppable force. It won’t necessarily make life easy, but it will make life doable. Let your hyperfocus lead you to your passions. Let your passions lead you to your career. Let the people in your life into your struggles. Help them understand you and let them help you in a way that works for you. It won’t only help you get things done–it will strengthen your relationships. Remember: You are not lazy. You are not useless. You are not a lost cause. You are not alone. Now, think of something you want to get done today. Ready or not, 3, 2, 1, UP!!!
Works Cited
Hupfeld, K. E., Abagis, T. R., & Shah, P. (2019). Living “in the zone”: hyperfocus in adult ADHD. ADHD Attention Deficit and Hyperactivity Disorders, 11(2), 191-208. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/327943818_Living_in_the_zone_hyperfocus_in_adult_ADHD
Saline, S. (2025, September 15). The ADHD paralysis trap: Why you can’t start—and how to break through. Dr. Sharon Saline. https://www.drsharonsaline.com/blog/2025/09/adhdparalysis
Sonuga-Barke, E. J., Sergeant, J. A., Nigg, J., & Willcutt, E. (2008). Executive dysfunction and delay aversion in attention deficit hyperactivity disorder: nosologic and diagnostic implications. Child and adolescent psychiatric clinics of North America, 17(2), 367-384. https://www-sciencedirect-com.proxy.queensu.ca/science/article/pii/S1056499307001228
When I was growing up, many people thought I was a pretty perfect kid. I do not blame them; I was smart, a straight-A student, well-mannered, well-behaved, outgoing, and I was always told I was mature for my age. But, what my friends, family members, teachers, and even my parents did not realize was that I was going through a constant struggle. I struggled to stay on task, to remember everything I had to do, to do things in a normal amount of time instead of taking twice as long or rushing to do it twice as fast, to stay calm when I was stressed instead of bursting into tears and shutting down. This was not just for schoolwork, but almost every aspect of my life. It was not until halfway through the eleventh grade, when I truly expressed the extent of these struggles to my parents and then a psychologist, and I was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder, or ADHD.
Prior to my diagnosis, I had limited knowledge as to what ADHD looked like, besides the common stereotypes of struggling to sit still or focus. However, as I learned more about how ADHD can impact the different aspects of my life, I found that many of the things that frustrated me most about myself were actually tied to this disorder. Not only has my diagnosis provided clarity, but it has also allowed me to access tools to help me function better, which has led to improvement in my grades, self-confidence, and coping-mechanisms. But why did it take until then to receive my diagnosis? Why did so many signs go unnoticed? Why did it take me receiving my diagnosis for my then 49-year-old mother (who has an incredibly similar profile as me) to realize that she and her mother have it too?
One common misconception is that ADHD is less prevalent in girls, when in reality, girls experience different symptoms that are often overlooked as signs of ADHD, resulting in fewer diagnoses. According to special education and ADHD researchers Dr. Janice Grskovic and Dr. Sydney Zental (2010), some symptoms of ADHD that are often unique to girls are verbal impulsivity and hyperactivity–which can look like trouble filtering speech and talking quickly and often–as well as being easily bored, and having elevated emotional responses and emotional dysregulation–which can present as mood swings, overreacting, and uncontrollable crying. Girls with ADHD also often suffer from low self-esteem (which is often tied to feeling incompetent because of other ADHD symptoms), as well as constant or extreme stress, anxiety, and depression (Grskovic and Zental, 2010). Therefore, the common symptoms and struggles of ADHD for girls are often the things that get passed off as being typical “girl behaviour” or–in more extreme cases–soley attributed to a different condition (e.g. an anxiety or mood disorder) without considering comorbidity.
Grskovic & Zental (2010) explain teachers typically refer students for assessment because of externalizing symptoms and disruptive behavior in the classroom–which girls with ADHD are less likely to exhibit–and that even when girls have the same external symptoms, teachers will still see them as less disruptive or as more modifiable in the classroom. This is a problem, because it is typically through a teacher’s recommendation that parents or guardians will learn that their child shows symptoms and should be tested for ADHD (Grskovic & Zental, 2010). Instead, most of these symptoms may often be written off by teachers, family members, and friends as simply being personality traits, so girls will be labeled as moody, a “chatty Cathy,” or a drama queen.
According to a national survey conducted by the Director of the National Center for Gender Issues and ADHD, Dr. Patricia Quinn, and her colleague Dr. Sharon Wigal (2004), 82% of teachers in America think ADHD is more prevalent in boys. While this study is older, I have seen this misconception perpetuated (possibly unintentionally) by some of my own psychology professors, who shared the difference in ADHD diagnosis rates of boys and girls but did not discuss why this may be, leading some of my classmates to incorrectly assume that means that it is simply more common for boys. The future teachers, clinicians, and parents in that class may not remember the specific percentages, but this idea that ADHD is more common in boys than girls may stick with them.
My little brother had a teacher suggest that he get tested for ADHD when he was in Grade 1. I got to grade 11 without a single teacher recognizing the signs despite my report cards filled with comments about being “too chatty with friends,” my backpack always being a disorganized mess, and my quizzes being filled with “silly mistakes” because I was rushing to finish on time or had not noticed part of the instructions. I was forgetful, a huge procrastinator, and would constantly leave things until the last minute. As a child and teenager, I was frequently overwhelmed and anxious. I also had very big emotional reactions, even to minor inconveniences. This was one symptom that my brother and I had in common, but that looked very different for each of us. As a kid, he would rage and tantrum (we called it hulking out), screaming and throwing and destroying. As he got older, this rage showed up as aggressive and mean words that were uncalled for and his go-to response to any minor criticism or annoyance. In contrast, my go-to-reaction when experiencing any big emotion (e.g., fear, disappointment, frustration, even happiness) was and often still is to sob big “crocodile tears,” which typically leads to feeling embarrassed when I know that it is a disproportionate response to the situation. Perhaps if my parents or teachers had a better idea of what to look out for, someone could have said, “I think this may be ADHD,” much earlier on, and I would not have had to go through my first 16 years of life wondering what was wrong with me.
Hindsight is 20/20, but it is too late to turn back the clock. Rather than dwell on the years I could have had with the support and understanding that I needed, I want to focus on spreading awareness so that other little girls with ADHD receive diagnoses earlier and grow up without blaming themselves and asking “Why can’t I just?”
Works Cited
Grskovic, J. A., & Zentall, S. S. (2010). Understanding ADHD in Girls: Identification and Social Characteristics. International journal of special education, 25(1), 171-184. https://files.eric.ed.gov/fulltext/EJ890576.pdf
Quinn, P., & Wigal, S. (2004). Perceptions of girls and ADHD: results from a national survey. Medscape general medicine, 6(2). https://www-ncbi-nlm-nih-gov.proxy.queensu.ca/pmc/articles/PMC1395774/
When I was diagnosed with ADHD at 48, it didn’t feel like a beginning. It felt like an explanation.
For decades, I had built a life and career in coaching, counseling, and supporting others—yet underneath that competence was a quieter, more complicated reality. I lived with constant mental noise, inconsistent focus, and a persistent sense that I was working harder than others just to stay in step. I had developed systems, habits, and coping strategies that allowed me to function—and often excel—but they came at a cost. The cost was often emotional dysregulation that impacted my personal and professional relationships: one divorce and some work challenges.
The Diagnosis Reframed Everything
Suddenly, the patterns made sense. The bursts of creativity alongside periods of paralysis. The ability to deeply connect with people, paired with difficulty managing administrative tasks. The intensity, the sensitivity, the drive—and the exhaustion. What I had once interpreted as personal shortcomings began to resolve into something far more accurate: a different neurocognitive wiring.
Like many adults diagnosed later in life, I experienced a mix of relief and grief. Relief, because there was a name for what I had been navigating alone. Grief, because I wondered what might have been different if I had understood this earlier. I had long suffered with low level depression that led to worsening symptoms and challenges as I aged. As an example, I often wondered, if I had had the ADHD diagnosis earlier in life, would my depressive symptoms have been less severe? How might I have been supported differently? What would I have told my younger self, who worked so hard to appear “together”?
Menopause Amplified the Struggle
But the story doesn’t end with diagnosis. ADHD is not something that gets “resolved.” It evolves—and at times, it intensifies.
For me, that became especially clear during menopause. The hormonal shifts didn’t just affect mood or energy; they amplified my ADHD symptoms in ways I hadn’t anticipated. Focus became more elusive, memory less reliable, and the systems I had relied on for years no longer worked in the same way. It was disorienting—and, at times, discouraging.
Research shows I’m far from alone. Studies confirm that declining estrogen levels during perimenopause disrupt dopamine and serotonin—the brain chemicals central to ADHD regulation—leading to worse inattention, executive dysfunction, and emotional dysregulation. For many women, symptoms peak between 40-59, often unmasking ADHD for the first time or making medications less effective. Over 60% report this transition as when ADHD most disrupts daily life.
A New Professional Focus
This experience clarified my path forward. I began to see how many women, particularly high-functioning professionals, navigate this intersection of ADHD and midlife transition—often without adequate language, support, or recognition. Women who had spent decades compensating, only to find those strategies breaking down. Women questioning their competence, when in fact their neurobiology was shifting.
My work has increasingly focused on supporting professionals with ADHD and/or high-functioning autism, with a growing emphasis on midlife adults—particularly women—whose challenges are often overlooked or misunderstood. These are individuals who are capable, insightful, and deeply committed, yet operating in environments that don’t always align with how their brains work best.
These talented, dedicated and highly intelligent woman don’t need to be fixed. They need translation, alignment, and strategy. My coaching focuses on how attention, energy, and motivation truly work, not on idealised versions. We build systems that are sustainable, not aspirational. We work with strengths, rather than constantly compensating for perceived deficits. And we address the emotional layers: the years of self-doubt, shame, the internalized narratives, and the quiet erosion of confidence that can come from feeling out of sync. My sessions include cognitive reframing, challenging limiting beliefs and creating an ability to pause before reacting, to name a few tools in my toolbelt. I lean into my doctorate degree in mental health counselling frequently and have grown my understanding of neuroscience and continue to bring my learnings to each session.
Turning Challenge into Contribution
There is something uniquely powerful about being supported by someone who not only understands the theory but has also lived experience—across different life stages.
My ADHD did not derail my career—it shaped it. At 48, I received a diagnosis. In my 60s, I continue to navigate its complexities, especially as life changes like menopause bring new challenges. But I also see, more clearly than ever, how this journey has allowed me to align my work with those I am best equipped to support.
If there is one message I would share, it is this: understanding yourself is not a one-time event. It is an ongoing process—and at any stage of life, it can become a powerful foundation not just for coping, but for contribution.
If you have ADHD, you may care deeply and connect intensely. At the same time, everyday relationship moments can become harder to manage. You may mean to reply, intend to help, or listen better while looking away, yet the other person may receive a different message.
The tips below can help you make intentions clearer, reduce repeated conflict, and repair more easily when things go wrong.
Common ADHD Relationship Patterns
ADHD can create a gap between what you meant and how someone else experienced it.
Intention is what you meant. Impact is how the other person experienced it.
You may recognise some of these patterns, and they can show up differently in different relationships.
💬 Delayed replies
You mean to respond, but the message disappears from your mind. To the other person, the silence may feel like distance or disinterest.
🕒 Time blindness
You underestimate time, arrive late, or struggle to prepare early. To the other person, this may feel like their time was not valued.
👂 Distracted listening
You look away, drift, miss details, or seem less present than you feel. To the other person, this may feel like they are not being heard.
🗣️ Interrupting
You jump in because you are excited, urgent, or afraid of losing the thought. To the other person, this may feel like being talked over.
🌊 Emotional intensity
You react strongly when overwhelmed, hurt, stressed, or overstimulated. To the other person, this may feel sudden, intense, or hard to respond to.
💔Rejection sensitivity
Criticism, delay, distance, or a change in tone may feel especially painful. To the other person, your reaction may seem bigger than the moment itself.
🔁 Inconsistent follow-through
You intend to do something, but struggle to start, remember, or finish. To the other person, this may feel like unreliability.
🏠 Shared task tension
Chores, planning, finances, or invisible labour become repeated conflict points. To the other person, this may feel like they are carrying too much alone.
ADHD Relationship Tips
💬 Make your intentions visible
People cannot always see what you meant internally. If your behaviour looked distant, distracted, late, or unreliable, it can help to say the missing piece clearly.
Helpful phrases may include:
💬 “I forgot to reply, but I do want to stay connected.”
💬 “I went quiet because I was overwhelmed, and I want to come back to this.”
💬 “I may look away while you talk, but I am listening.”
This reduces guesswork. Clear words help the other person understand what silence, delay, or distraction means.
🧠 Name the pattern without attacking yourself
When a pattern keeps going wrong, it can help to name it more clearly. A pattern name gives you somewhere to start.
🧠 “This is a working memory issue.”
🕒 “This is a time blindness issue.”
🌊 “This is emotional intensity showing up.”
🔁 “This is a follow-through pattern we need a system for.”
Naming the pattern helps you move from shame into problem-solving.
📌 Make expectations specific
Vague expectations are hard to follow through on. Phrases like “help more,” “be more reliable,” or “communicate better” may sound clear, but they leave too much room for interpretation. A clearer agreement is easier to act on.
📌 “Help more” can become “own dinner cleanup on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.”
📌 “Be on time” can become “start getting ready at 18:30 and leave at 19:00.”
📌 “Communicate better” can become “send a short message if you cannot reply properly yet.”
Specific agreements reduce shame, guessing, and repeated conflict.
🧰 Use visible systems for responsibilities
ADHD can make it harder to rely on memory, motivation, and a natural sense of time. Visible systems make important things easier to remember before they become urgent.
Helpful systems may include:
📅 a shared calendar for plans, appointments, birthdays, and important dates
🏠 a household task board showing who owns what, and when it happens
💬 a communication fallback, such as “I’m overwhelmed, but I’ll reply tonight”
This works best when the task is visible before anyone has to remind you. A system can protect your intentions from getting lost in daily demands.
🌊 Plan for emotional intensity and rejection sensitivity
If you experience rejection sensitivity, a delayed reply, a tired tone, a short comment, or a changed facial expression may feel like rejection before you can check what was meant.
It can help to create a pause and return plan before conflict escalates.
🌊 “I noticed I felt rejected very quickly, and I want to check what you meant.”
🌊 “I’m having a strong reaction. I need a few minutes before I respond.”
🌊 “I want to keep talking, but I need 20 minutes to regulate. I will come back.”
The return matters because it helps the pause feel safe instead of unfinished.
🔁 Repair with one concrete next step
“I’m sorry” may be honest, while repeated patterns often need more than reassurance.
For example: “I forgot, and I understand why that was frustrating. I’m putting a reminder in my phone now so this is less likely next time.”
Other repair sentences include:
🔁 “I interrupted you. I’m going to pause and let you finish.”
🔁 “I reacted strongly. I need a few minutes, but I will come back.”
Repair shows that the pattern matters and gives both people something clearer to work with.
Conclusion
ADHD can affect how intentions are expressed and how actions are received. One moment may have one meaning for you and a different impact on the other person.
That gap becomes easier to work with when you can step back and ask: what pattern is showing up, what impact did it have, and what support would make this easier next time?
🧠 name the pattern
💬 notice the impact
📌 choose one practical support
🔁 repair when needed
With clearer communication, visible systems, and specific repair, ADHD relationship patterns can become easier to understand and navigate, creating more room for trust, connection, and everyday care.
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About the author Johan Lammers is the founder of sensoryoverload.info, a learning platform for neurodivergent adults.
ADHD was never something I had considered in my own life. Despite being an experienced mental health professional, like others, I held outdated, stereotypical ideas about what ADHD was. It wasn’t until I began working with women who were being diagnosed later in life that something shifted. I started to understand ADHD differently.
Over time, parts of these women’s stories began to feel unexpectedly familiar. I remember the exact moment it clicked. I was mid-session, helping a client navigate the very real challenge of actually finishing laundry. I was sharing strategies, my strategies, when something stopped me. Why did I have so many personal workarounds for this and the other struggles that these women were coming to me with?
Even then, I doubted myself. I did well in school. I got good grades. Never caused trouble; a classic overachiever by every outward measure. Sure, I was regularly told to stop talking in class, slow down speaking, stop distracting my friends while they were trying to work… but that was just my personality. Right?
Getting an ADHD diagnosis changed that story entirely. It didn’t break anything. It explained everything.
An Incomplete Picture
For a long time, ADHD was understood through one narrow lens, which left a lot of people out.
Research now shows that ADHD presents very differently across genders, and the common presentation in girls and women has historically been missed. Rather than overt hyperactivity, it often looks like inattentiveness mistaken for daydreaming, or a mind that never settles even when the body is still.
Hyperactivity exists, but it’s turned inward. It’s an emotional intensity and a sensitivity to rejection that leaves women being told, and feeling, they’re “too much” or “too sensitive.” Difficulties with time management, follow-through, or organization are often misinterpreted as laziness or a lack of effort. Over time, this can lead to anxiety, self-doubt, and a sense of falling short, despite a great deal of effort being invested.
These symptoms are no less disruptive but they are quieter. Quiet struggles are easy to miss.
The Exhaustion of Masking
One reason women with ADHD fly under the radar for so long is that many become extraordinarily skilled at masking; adapting, compensating, and hiding their difficulties, often even from themselves.
Masking does not always look like disorganization. It can often look like being highly organized, or dependable because you arrive early and complete tasks immediately.
However, this is done out of a concern that things will otherwise be forgotten. It’s over preparing or stopping your day to make that one appointment.
This was me. I was super organized, everything was done immediately. I was always on time, usually early. From the outside, I looked completely capable and put together.
What no one could see was what it cost. I was hypervigilant about tasks and time in a way that consumed me, leaving little room for anything else. What people saw as capability was often survival, masking, and compensation running at full speed, all the time.
I had no idea how much I had been masking. The overachieving, the strategies, the systems quietly built around difficulties I never thought to question. It had all felt so normal, I didn’t know if could be anything different.
When masking works well enough, ADHD can remain undetected for decades. A new job, a baby, perimenopause; any major transition can finally overload the coping strategies holding everything together. Suddenly the system breaks down, and many women are left wondering: what happened? What’s wrong with me?
Why Transitions Like the Postpartum Period and Midlife Matter
Many women begin to question ADHD during periods of significant change, such as becoming a parent or entering perimenopause.
These transitions often involve shifts in roles, responsibilities, and routines, as well as biological changes. Estrogen plays an important role in dopamine regulation; a system closely tied to attention, motivation, and emotional regulation. When estrogen levels fluctuate or decline, these processes can become more difficult to manage.
As a result, focus may feel harder to sustain, memory less reliable, and emotional responses more intense.
For women who have spent years unknowingly relying on coping strategies they didn't even know they had, these transitions can be the moment those strategies simply stop working and the woman who always managed, suddenly can't.
What Diagnosis Offers
For many women, receiving an ADHD diagnosis is not about adding a label, it is about gaining understanding. For me, it didn’t change who I was. It changed how I understood myself.
Experiences that had once been interpreted as personal shortcomings began to make more sense in a different context. The constant effort, the systems, the workarounds, none of it had been random.
This shift in understanding often brings a sense of relief. It allows for greater self-compassion and opens the door to strategies that are better aligned with how the brain actually works.
Alongside the challenges, ADHD also brings strengths, such as creativity, curiosity, the ability to solve problems quickly, or to make connections others might not immediately see. Many of us are natural outside-the-box thinkers, with an ability to approach problems in creative and unconventional ways. I honestly believe ADHD strengths enable me to be a better therapist. I can often see the connections others miss.
Awareness of how ADHD presents in women is helping more people find clarity later in life, make sense of their experiences, and most importantly, find ways of working with their brain, rather than against it.
Bio
Melinda Aspell is a Registered Social Worker and the founder of Selene Therapy & Wellness, a virtual practice specializing in ADHD in adults, perimenopause, and women's mental health. With over 20 years of experience and advanced certifications in both ADHD (ADHD-CCSP) and menopause mental health (MMHCP), she brings both clinical depth and lived experience to her work, including her own late ADHD diagnosis.
My name is Diane and I have ADHD. I was diagnosed three years ago as a 61-year-old. It was an astounding revelation to me. Previously, I had been diagnosed with depression and anxiety but neither of those diagnoses nor the medications used to treat them ever felt right. Now, with the ADHD lens, I see that my very busy mind was creating feelings that I did not know how to process. I have spent the past few years exploring what this new diagnosis means and how it may explain my lifelong mental health challenges. With a mix of relief and sadness, I have come to understand how my brain works. But I also came across a few things that really surprised me.
I will admit I knew very little about ADHD prior to the late diagnosis. I had the common misconception that it was only related to young boys with too much energy. Yet here I was, a post-menopausal woman who did not fit into that narrow view. What I uncovered was that I was not alone. More people than ever are being diagnosed later in life - especially adult women.
The first surprise for me was learning about gender differences in ADHD. It is well understood that women’s health research has lagged men’s health research for decades in all areas. I learned that ADHD was no different. ADHD research was generally done with only men and boys until the early 2000s. Newer research combined with changes to the diagnostic criteria in 2013 have been helpful in getting more women and girls diagnosed. With more inclusive research, it became clear that ADHD presented differently in women and girls. Firstly, the physical energy shown in males with ADHD more often showed up as mental energy in females. This could look like a girl who daydreams a lot or can’t quiet their mind. As well, societal behaviour expectations for women and girls led to more masking in females as they tried desperately to fit in and feel normal. This meant that despite constant noise in female brains, their symptoms seemed invisible. And finally, the role of hormones in ADHD was a missing component. It is now understood that changes in estrogen levels (menstrual cycles, pregnancy, and menopause) can exacerbate ADHD symptoms to a point where they can no longer be dismissed. While many women, like me, got entirely missed or given the wrong diagnosis when they were younger, new research that improved diagnostic criteria has been helpful in finally getting women the help they need.
The benefit of getting a late ADHD diagnosis is that awareness provides an opportunity for reflection. This reflection led me to figure out how ADHD had played a part in why I am the way I am. I spent years blaming myself for things I thought of as character flaws. And while neurodivergence is often seen as a negative, I was also surprised to learn that there are also many positives to a brain that works so differently.
Some of my behaviours that could be considered negative or problematic include:
However, many of my character traits could be seen as positives and include:
I think everyone, even those without ADHD, could look at their own personality and find both negative and positive attributes. With ADHD, it is easy to see only the undesirable, but we should not dismiss the superpowers that we do have.
Lastly, I was also surprised at how many questions I had about my life and the ADHD diagnosis itself. A late diagnosis makes you look back and question so many things. What I found is that not only did I have a lot of questions about my diagnosis, but I also had some answers about my personality and my life struggles.
Some of the questions I had included:
Not only were there plenty of questions, but I also had some answers. The most important one being that I finally had an explanation for the trouble I had regulating my thoughts and emotions. I also had many ‘aha’ moments regarding the difficulties I had with focusing or relaxing, my dopamine-seeking behaviours and my relationship issues over the years. These revelations gave me a strange sort of validation for how my personality and my life had unfolded.
I am thankful for getting an ADHD diagnosis, even if it was late in life. It was the beginning of a big learning curve of self-discovery that included hours of therapy as well as reading many books and listening to many podcasts. I have now come to a place where I feel very lucky to have found understanding from my family, a community in others with ADHD and the knowledge that despite dealing with this big unknown throughout my life, I did my best. The self-compassion that has grown in me has been life-changing and for that I am grateful.
Diane Heaton lives in Calgary and recently wrote a chapter about her ADHD journey in the book ‘The Embers We Carry’ – FoundHer Series Volume 3.
My name is Veronica, and I was a working mom to a 5-year-old little guy on the autism spectrum. My days were busy… 6am wake-ups to get lunches made and clothes ready. Drop-offs at school, driving to work, working all day, picking up my son, heading to therapies, then finally home by 7pm. And all of this seemed reasonable. That was my life. I was burning the candle at both ends and didn’t even think it was abnormal. That was until we were all forced to stop and sit still during the pandemic.
Dylan had just started junior kindergarten in September. He was hyperactive and out of his normal routine — and working a full-time virtual job with a neurodivergent 5-year-old who refused to sit in front of an iPad for virtual school? Nearly impossible.
When I was home with him, I would set up my laptop on the kitchen table next to his iPad and say “Let’s do some work!” to try to get him to sit for even a few minutes to participate in the daily lessons. But nothing held his attention. So, I would leave the iPad on so that he could still hear the teacher and kids, as he played in the living room, lining up his toys or colouring.
Part of my job was to host virtual orientations for new employees on Mondays. This became the most challenging day to deal with Dylan. I would try to set him up in his room with the TV on, playing a movie he liked, his iPad charged and loaded with games, books, blocks and toys he loved, and try to convince him to ‘play’ for the 2.5 hours I needed to present. You can imagine, this didn’t work out as planned.
One time, he stripped down to nothing and walked into the background of my virtual orientation. I quickly saw his little butt reflected in my screen and turned off my camera… but forgot to mute myself. Thankfully, these orientations are a two-person team and my coworker quickly jumped on and covered the orientation while I tried to get Dylan out of the room, but because I forgot to mute myself, they could hear me yelling at him to go put on some clothes and go back to his room. Not my best moment. And this is where I think it all started to crack for me.
As the days went on, I became anxious and heightened. I would snap at anything, and I would get upset easily. I started avoiding doing household tasks because it all seemed like too much. I didn’t know how to sit still for too long. I often went on hour-long drives with Dylan, just to get us out of the house.
And during this time, I developed a BFRB (body-focused repetitive behaviour) where I picked at my face, legs, and bit my cuticles raw. I spoke to my doctor and she prescribed an antidepressant. But the skin-picking was truly bad, and I decided to start a 6-week therapy group for BFRBs.
One of the causes, the psychotherapist mentioned while explaining what might cause someone to skin-pick was, ADHD as a potential cause. She said that there was high comorbidity between the two, explained by the need for stimulation, poor impulse control, and that it could be driven by dopamine deficiency.
This piqued my curiosity.
When my son was diagnosed at 3.5 years old, I started doing a lot of research into autism and its causes. Genetics was one of the main drivers, and this made sense to me. My brother was diagnosed with ADD when he was just 5 years old and started medication, as he was a super hyperactive child. But I was not like that. I wasn’t hyperactive. I did, however, always talk too much in class and get in trouble for it. I would not sit still (always shaking my leg) and usually needed something to fidget with during lessons. I was forgetful and disorganised. And I was always “too sensitive” according to everyone around. I started projects and never finished them. But I could get hyper-fixated on a topic and learn everything about it. I hated being called on to read out loud or answer a question in class. All things I now know are ADHD traits in girls.
I asked my psychotherapist if I could book a separate appointment to discuss this with her.
At that appointment, we chatted about my past experiences, and she completed the DSM-5 questionnaire for ADHD, and guess what? She concluded that I did, in fact, qualify for a diagnosis of ADHD.
It did take a long time to get an official diagnosis. But eventually, I was weaned off the antidepressant and started taking Vyvanse. And this medication changed everything for me.
For the first time in my whole life, my mind was quiet. I cried the first time I took it.
For so many years, I would describe to people that my brain was like a computer with multiple tabs open, all running at the same time. And now, I would take my medication and I would be able to focus on just one task. And complete it. And had the motivation to do it.
It was insane to me how much of my life I realised I was struggling. Masking. Just getting by because I had to.
Getting diagnosed as an adult is something that seems to be happening to a lot of people recently, from what I can read and see on social media. People telling stories of years of struggles and the relief they felt once they knew exactly why they were the way they were.
It may have taken the craziness of the pandemic to throw me into a spiral to finally get this figured out, but my goodness, am I happy it did.
Life inside an ADHD brain can be…unpleasant at times.
When everything feels like too much, it’s natural to want to escape. For years, I felt guilty about the moments I needed to put my own consciousness on pause, largely because of how I did it: sugar binges, social media scrolls, Netflix marathons that went on far longer than I intended.
But the guilt ran deeper than that. As a regular therapy‑goer, I believed the negative thoughts themselves shouldn’t go unchallenged. I thought that as soon as they appeared, I should be doing something productive with them: pulling out cognitive distortion worksheets, journaling my way through, making meaning so I could argue back.
But more often than not, when I turned my attention toward the spiralling thoughts in the heat of the moment, trying to challenge them, reason with them, or make sense of them, I would get completely taken out by them.
Instead of feeling relief, I would sink further into despair.
It wasn’t until I started learning about the nervous system (particularly through the lens of Dr. Stephen Porges’ Polyvagal Theory) that I began to understand why this instinct, while well-intentioned, can sometimes be the worst possible course of action.
So today, I'm arguing why learning to intentionally and safely step away from our minds in moments of dysregulation isn’t a failure of coping, but a mission‑critical skill for anyone living with an ADHD nervous system.
One of the first things I learned about the nervous system that changed everything for me was this: our nervous system isn’t just reacting to life; it’s actively shaping how we experience it. This idea sits at the foundation of Dr. Stephen Porges’ work, which posits that:
Unfortunately, for the ADHDer, we can spend a lot of time in this state.
Dysregulation is driven by overwhelm: when demands, stimuli, and internal pressure outpace the nervous system’s ability to regulate, recover, and return to safety. And this is frequently what is happening inside the ADHD brain. Our brains take in more and filter less, making overwhelm a common part of our daily experience.
One of the clearest signs you’ve crossed that threshold of overwhelm is the tone of your thoughts: the harsher, more absolute, and more hopeless they become, the more dysregulated your nervous system likely is.
So here is my argument: do not try to argue with a dysregulated brain. It just won't go well.
Do not try to rationalize your way out of the spiral. According to polyvagal theory, you quite literally don’t have access to the circuits required for insight, flexibility, or kindness toward yourself.
So the skill I’m inviting ADHDers to hone is something I’m calling a graceful exit.
A graceful exit is the intentional choice to step away from the mental spiral in moments of intense dysregulation.
Rather than engaging with those thoughts or trying to reason your way out, a graceful exit means giving your nervous system a safe, regulating way out of the spiral, and allowing capacity to return before you ask anything more of yourself.
I'm inviting you to challenge the idea you might have in your head that all escape is bad. Escape can be bad when it is unplanned, reactive and driven by dopamine. In those moments, we reach for whatever is most immediately numbing or stimulating, even if it ultimately leaves us more depleted. But when done with intention, escape can be adaptive, not pathological.
Below is a list of a few of my own favourite ways I like to exit gracefully from my mind in moments of dysregulation:
If there’s one permission I hope you take from this, it’s this: you are allowed to step away. You are allowed to stop engaging with your thoughts when they’ve turned harsh, absolute, and overwhelming. You are not giving up. You are changing the order of operations.
First, exit the spiral. Second, help your body regulate. And only then, come back to reflect, process, or make meaning of the painful thoughts.
You may just find that a surprising number of your meanest thoughts don’t survive a regulated nervous system!
Growing up, my late father told me that I was “born to move”. When I was born, the doctor who caught me almost dropped me because I was squirming so much. I am still fond of that story, because it is undoubtedly true. To me, it was normal to have an abundance of energy, as if everyone else in the world had that energy. It was my special super power where I felt confident and happy to move how I wanted to; I always felt a release and sense of calm after movement, exercise or stretching. It was a small moment in time in between life, where my brain shut off, and the chatter would cease to exist.
Skip forward to thirty-eight years later where I was given a late-stage diagnosis of combined ADHD. A light bulb went off in my brain; it all made sense; hyperactivity, hyper focus, the lack of impulse control, the inability to organize, simple tasks that I hated to do like cleaning and dishes, lack of focus while listening to podcasts or watching a movie and, lastly what most affects me is emotional regulation. It became an upwards battle, being stubborn and not wanting to think I was different or that something was “wrong with me,” it took a while to realize that something needed attention.
I was starting to have trouble with managing anxiety; crying at every stress, not focusing at work and not being able to manage daily life. It was also a period in my life where I was processing the trauma that I experienced at the age of thirteen when I saw my mother die due to cancer treatments. I have read several books about trauma and the nervous system, searching for answers to figure out why I reacted so strongly to life’s events, changes and social interactions (always with a nervous energy). It wasn’t until I started looking into ADHD that it all fell into place. Through my research about trauma, I discovered that neurodivergent brains already have a sensitive nervous system and find it harder to respond to stress. In my case, I got overstimulated and burnt out. Mixed with trauma, it is what I like to call a Neuro- F**** roller coaster.
Looking back, when I was a teenager, lacking one primary care giver and not knowing about ADHD, it was not surprising that I found an outlet to manage my symptoms. I loved running, weight training, dance and really any movement to help calm my system. Eventually, it lead to jobs and careers in the fitness industry and to my current job as a Registered Massage Therapist and Mobility Specialist.
The ADHD diagnosis has helped to clarify how my brain works and made me feel less ashamed. It created an in depth body awareness and deep learning about how the body-mind deals with stress and to find therapeutic ways to manage. I had always tried so hard to function and pushed myself to perform big accomplishments in order to seem normal, when really, I didn’t know what was going on.
It wasn’t until I was maybe thirty- five to thirty -eight, when my hormones started to change, that my ADHD symptoms skyrocketed. So here I am now in my fourth month of taking medications to help manage my symptoms, and life is quite different! I am more attentive, I have less burn out, I don’t need to run for hours to just get a dopamine hit, at work I am more present and I feel more motivated to do the hobbies that I love.
I think it’s important to understand that medication will not solve everything but it will give you the tools to function better and have better relationships, less burnt out and more focus in your career. The one area that I still struggle with a little bit is during my monthly cycle when hormones fluctuate. As estrogen rises and falls so does attention and focus - all the different chemical reactions and neurotransmitters sometimes becomes muddled. It has not been officially diagnosed but I am pretty sure that I display symptoms of PMDD; Pre- Menstral Dysphoria, basically a mood disorder and a sensitive system to changes in neurochemicals. Yikes!
At first I was angry that ADHD was not brought to my attention sooner, since it does run in my family and is genetic. It was comforting that my sister Anya, brought to my attention that our parents loved us children and they accepted that their daughter had high energy. I felt that had I known about the ADHD I could have navigated life better, but learning acceptance and compassion has been a big lesson and made me have a deeper understanding of myself and the world (its OK to rest!) - perhaps that’s why I am a good massage therapist.
ADHD, in my opinion, is a gift and can be harnessed to do so many wonderful pursuits. My favourite aspect about having hyper focus is that you can be engrossed in what you love to do; reading fantasy and history books for hours, hiking or running in the forest, deep conversations with friends and family. Even though it is hard to feel the stressors and difficult emotions you also feel the good emotions and it encompasses your whole body.
Luckily, there are foods, supplements and lifestyle changes that have been wonderful. Managing stress is a huge component, finding ways to ground oneself is crucial. Below I have complied a list of strategies that have been helpful to me. I like to pull out each one based on my needs. I understand that each person is unique and has different needs; my intention is to provide an example of the resources I have used in order help others.
Therapy
I have seen many therapists of the years, from counsellors to psychotherapists, and found that a therapist with training in Brain Spotting is very helpful to help process and heal traumatic events. Cognitive Behaviour Therapy is also beneficial when it comes to using your brain from a top down process to logically state the reality of a scenario. However, I found that I needed something deeper that helped my brain to process trauma. Brain Spotting is a brain- body therapy that uses eye positions to help process trauma, stress and emotional blockages. With the idea that where you look affects how you feel and trauma gets stuck in the visual field. Brain spotting session’s create peace and changes the way you perceive that event and therefore creates healing.
Yoga Nidra
Yoga Nidra, or Yoga Sleep is the practice of introspection with a guide. There are several ways this yoga practice works; you can lye down or sit in chair, there is a guided voice talking to you. Using breathe, or sensing the breathe, gentle movement, sensory or somatic movements, visual meditation, and gaining introspection; body awareness. It is a state of mind between wakefulness and sleep, enabling one to be fully present.
Exercise and Yoga
I have always loved running, swimming or cardio based exercises. It allows me to rest my brain, and focus on what is happening in the moment. Repetitive movement has especially been helpful since it focuses on the task at hand. Especially if its outside in nature.
Yoga is very therapeutic since it’s a whole body movement that use the breathe and to move with intention and flow. Yin yoga, Vinyasa Flow and Restorative are some of my favourites.
Dancing
I have taken several forms of dance; from Belly Dancing to the basics of Break Dancing and Contemporary Dance. Dance opens up different ways of moving, it involves coordination, spacial awareness and the music make’s you feel free to “shake it off”.
Weight Training
My first full-time career was working as a Personal Trainer and Group Fitness Instructor. I really enjoy strength training. I think mixing cardio and strength training is the way to go for full-body health. Steady strength training with gradual increases in weight brings confidence and creates self-worth. The added bonus of strength training, especially lower-body strength, is important for cognitive health.
Hobbies
As for hobbies, I enjoy making art collages; using a variety of mediums from magazines to fabrics, paint, parts of jewellery etc. It allows me to escape for a while. Writing stories is fun and I enjoy the research part of creating a story; or you can just sit down and write about whatever comes to your mind! Colouring books creates mindfulness by focusing on the item you are working on. Most recently, I got back into collecting Lego sets (mostly Harry Potter) and building book nooks. These allow a steady focus and challenges the brain to follow instructions while you immerse yourself in creating other worlds.
Health Professional Support
Registered Massage Therapy; Indie Head Massage, Deep Tissue, Sports, Fascial Stretching
Osteopath; Visceral Manipulation
Pelvic Floor Physiotherapy
Books and Videos
Scattered Minds, Gabor Mate
The Woman’s Brain Book: Neuroscience of Health, Hormones and Happiness
Sarah Mckay
Krista Gansterer
RMT
CSEP PT®
Kinstretch®
Yoga Teacher
Many of us ADHDers have heard about the analogy that our brain is a Ferrari with bicycle breaks created by Dr. Hallowell. And while I respect him and understand that this is only an analogy and that ADHD is not easily defined, as a car enthusiast, I beg to differ.
If we are going to use a car to describe the ADHD brain it’s definitely not a refined Ferrari but more like an old muscle car, inefficient brakes, ridiculously overpowered, and essentially the suspension of a horse wagon.
As an ADHDer you are behind the wheel of a car that just doesn’t want to turn enough when you need to turn (understeer = decision paralysis) and that when you step on the gas a little harder its back slides out and spin more than you want (oversteer = impulsivity).
So you have to compensate for those errors all the time… ALL. THE. TIME.
Every millisecond you are trying to use it to navigate life, you are calculating, predicting, correcting, correcting the correction, screaming for dear life (rejection sensitivity), trying to remain behind the wheel, pulling yourself using said wheel as a handle rather than as a direction control instrument, all while experiencing a deep feeling of shame for being a worthless driver (self-discrepancy gap).
And it doesn’t stop there. The gas pedal sometimes gets stuck (hyperfocus), so good luck stopping, even if you had those Ferrari brakes. You have to learn the tricks that get it unstuck and pray that it works on time.
— Speaking of time, what time is it? — Said Inner Voice A
— Oops, we just blew through the red light on “I-should-go-to-sleep Street”! — Screamed Inner Voice B
— You truly are the worst driver! — Said yet another, Inner Voice C
— You are inept since we were kids and I feel unsafe, this is not going to end well — the voice continued.
— Anyway, that gas pedal is still stuck… — Voice A ignoring, as usual, Voice C
— What if we give a little skewed-to-the-right kick on the pedal to get it unstuck! — that was the always witty Inner Voice D, suddenly jumping in with a solution.
— Maybe — answered Voice A — but now that we are accelerating, “Very-important-deadline Avenue” is not that far so we might as well use the momentum to get there early… Can you guys imagine, everyone will love us.
— There!!! It worked, pedal unstuck!!! I save the day, again!!
— But what about “Very-Important-Deadline Avenue”? Well, I guess we can just keep going, and it would be heal… th… zzzzzzzzz —little did Voice A know that he was only human, the deadline wasn’t met. Alas, yes Hyperfocus is a superpower; but is an unreliable superpower really super?
Did I mention this muscle car is haunted? It is, a thousand voices inhabit the car. So it gets noisy.
The voices aren’t the only contributors to the noise, the radio turns itself on and sometimes it gets locked on, sometimes the tuner changes randomly.
Frankly it’s exhausting, so much that minivans look enviable in comparison: no surprises, comfortable, everything fits in there, not too fast or too slow, 360 camera view. The only problem is that, you know, it’s a minivan (I have nothing against minivans, in my old age I actually kind of like them).
I try to remind myself to keep driving and have fun doing it, embrace the challenge, embrace the muscle car, because I’m stuck with it but also because it can also be so, so FUN and interesting, charming, and cool.
If we just keep driving, exploring the tricks on how to tame it, taking care of it, servicing it properly; maybe, just maybe, we’ll get to glide through the highway with the full moon shining on that roof.
It will probably still scare the heck out of us, but we’ll laugh, put it back on gear and keep driving.
Turn it into a project car. Car lovers do not always like their cars but they are called car lovers for a reason. As much as they dislike walking up for a nice drive only to find a poodle of oil under their vehicle, they love to put in the time and effort to work on them, and then working some more on their dysfunctional, quirky, annoying project cars.
Get yourself a nice toolbox (like the CADDAC blog), read and get wrenching. You will never turn it into a fully self-driving minivan, but if you could, would you really want to?
May this help you when minivan people (god bless them, we know they mean well) complain about your “bad driving habits” and say things like: “If you really cared, you’d drive better!” or “Why didn’t you turn when you had to?!” May you remember this analogy then and may they understand that it is not a driving style, it’s a precision-driving act.
Keep wrenching, you are doing it fine!
