ADHD is often misunderstood, especially when it comes to how it shows up in women. I learned that the hard way.
Growing up, I was constantly ridiculed for being overly sensitive, messy, and emotional— by teachers, parents, friends, you name it. The loneliness I felt as every other kid flipped their test over or handed in their paper while I was still working was suffocating. I had to constantly remind myself that I was smart — my grades were always great, even if my mind was chaotic.
I remember one test in 6th grade that had completely broken me. Everyone finished at what felt like lightning speed. Meanwhile, my pencil didn’t move after a few questions, and my knees shook. My brain felt static, and the ticking clock for the next bell only made it worse. I had studied the night before—or at least I tried to — but no matter how hard I stared at the words, my brain refused to continue. I did what I could and turned in the test unfinished, tears welling in my eyes. My teacher found me later during lunch and pulled me into the library to complete it. I spent another hour trying to get my brain to focus and work. I wailed to my teacher, telling her I didn’t care to finish it. I was so disappointed in myself that I just wanted it to end. The thing is, this wasn’t a one-time thing.
I told myself, ‘I was fine.’ But I wasn’t. I had to make organizing fun. I used planners religiously, decorating them with fun colors and stickers. Sure, I cried while blankly staring at my assignment, ‘but homework is stressful… right?’ A simple assignment might take me hours, but I told myself, ‘I was working hard.’ Maybe I couldn’t start right away because I felt paralyzed, but once I could, I did great. Still deep down, I began to wonder if it was normal. I was scared. Why did everything feel so much harder for me? I had lived my whole life thinking like this for a long time.
And it wasn’t just how I worked— it was how I had to work. It wasn’t just school tests or homework that showed me something was different. I also noticed the way I needed to focus. When I was younger, I would sneak my pink iPod touch under the table, with my earbud in one ear, to listen to YouTube videos while working. I knew I wasn’t “supposed” to, so I got creative to avoid getting caught. But the silence was unbearable. My mind would drift, my thoughts would spiral. Listening to anything helped me tune out the noise in my head and focus. While it looked like I was being distracted, it was the opposite. That background noise allowed me to sit, relax, and do the work. At the time, I didn’t know this was a common coping mechanism for people with ADHD. I knew the silence complicated things and had to do what worked. I listen to music while reading, and even when I was younger, when I did that, my mom would always think that was weird. How can you focus like that? And I would have to explain that this is the only way I can focus.
Being Diagnosed
I remember the first inkling I had that I had ADHD was in middle school, my 8th-grade teacher assigned us to read Focused by Alyson Gerber. The book follows a girl, Clea, caught between her love of chess and undiagnosed ADHD. Clea can’t control her thoughts. She knows she must do her homework, and how to do it, but constantly gets distracted. This book opened up my world. Clea never realised something about her was different, just like me. She explored therapies, medication, and learning how to cope with her diagnosis and get through life. That validation I felt reading that book was only the first part of the journey.
Even after I suspected it was ADHD, it was hard getting diagnosed. You have to fight for it. I had to explain years of symptoms to my therapist. I told stories, one of which was how I once thought I had 10 minutes before I had to leave for an appointment, and ended up 20 minutes late because I couldn’t properly understand how long it would take me to get ready and get there. Time either moved painfully slowly for me or disappeared entirely. When she said I might be right, that it wasn’t just symptoms of my anxiety or depression. I cried, relieved and grieving all the years I spent thinking I was broken.
I was lucky to have someone so understanding, but she couldn’t diagnose me herself, so I had to re-explain and advocate for myself to my psychiatrist, who then minimized my feelings and dismissed me! I continued to push, I was recommended a new psychiatrist from my therapist, once we met, he provided a long form for my parents and me. Going through each question, checking how often I felt or acted one way was gut-wrenching. Hearing my parents think similarly to how I saw myself was like a punch in the face. How long have I been like this, and people around me just assumed I wasn’t struggling?
But finally being diagnosed changed things. I was explained how my brain worked. Everything started to shift. I was able to explore treatment options— I was given strategies to manage my overwhelm, tools to stop spiraling, and permission to stop masking who I was. I even started medication (although not for everyone), which helped me slow down the noise in my head and focus on what mattered. In school, I was given additional time when it came to exams.
The improvement of life was undeniable. I started to feel more in control of who I was, less shameful, and more understanding of myself.
What ADHD Really Is
ADHD stands for Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder, a neurodevelopmental condition that affects how the brain regulates attention, behavior, and emotions. It is often associated with being hyper or distracted. But ADHD has a wide range of symptoms that can continue in adulthood (NIMH). And in women, it usually looks completely different. Contrary to popular belief, ADHD is not just about being hyperactive or easily distracted. It often involves challenges to executive functions—mental skills that include working memory, flexible thinking, and self-control (ADD.org). Challenges like this can manifest as difficulties in organizing tasks, managing time effectively, and maintaining focus.
I had no idea that ADHD didn’t always mean hyperactive. But ADHD presents itself differently in girls and women, and because of this, it’s pretty standard for girls and women to go undiagnosed. According to the National Institute of Health, “females with ADHD are reported to have fewer hyperactive/impulsive symptoms and more inattentive symptoms when compared with males.” Boys are known to bounce off the walls and can’t sit still, so no one ever thought to look deeper because I wasn’t doing that. Rather than displaying hyperactivity, we will likely experience inattentiveness, internal restlessness, and emotional sensitivity. Many of us also struggle with emotional dysregulation, feeling emotions more intensely, and having difficulty managing them. One minor frustration might feel like the end of the world, or a passing comment might send us into a spiral. This leads to behaviors such as daydreaming, perfectionism, and excessive organization— we mask our struggles to appear like we have it all together (Verywell Mind).
Another misunderstood part of ADHD is hyperfocus. While many assume ADHD means the inability to focus, it can also mean over-focusing, becoming so deeply immersed in a task or an idea that everything else can feel like it disappears. I could spend hours obsessively editing a project or spiraling through a creative idea, and I could forget to eat or go to sleep. I was constantly praised for my creativity and drive, despite struggling inside. People saw the product of my focus, not the emotional toll it took to get there.
This and masking can delay diagnosis and treatment, as these symptoms are less disruptive and therefore either seen as disorganized, emotional, or lazy, instead of someone with a medical condition known as inattentive ADHD. Understanding these differences is crucial in helping others to access appropriate and timely support.
Finding A Community
It’s important to know that there is a community out there of others. After my Diagnosis, I fell down an insane rabbit hole online. I scrolled through countless TikTok and Instagram pages, trying to understand all the ways ADHD had quietly influenced my life without me realizing it. Finding creatives like @the_mini_adhd_coach, @adhdoers, @future.adhd, and many others comforted me.
They talked about things I never thought to link to ADHD— like needing to use a small utensil to eat, because larger ones feel overstimulating. I’ve done that my whole life, and always thought I was just weird when I couldn’t bring myself to eat without one.
I love sharing and reposting articles or posts that I relate to to help spread awareness of ADHD. They gave me a language for what I was experiencing and reminded me I wasn’t just lazy or broken; I was wired differently. I felt seen and validated, and things began to make sense for the first time. I still struggle with starting tasks, time blindness, and overstimulation. But I’m also learning that managing ADHD is a lifelong process, not a quick fix. Knowing myself better has allowed me to advocate for what I need. And I’m no longer ashamed to scream from the rooftops that my brain works differently.
There are so many stories people tell about “quiet or inattentive ADHD.” If you ever see yourself in those and feel like things are harder than they should be, trust me, you’re not alone. Keep asking questions. Keep learning. There is no shame in seeking answers to understanding yourself.