Writer Eleanor Noyce reflects on her ADHD diagnosis – and finds that there are many attributes to celebrate.
“That’ll be £7.60, please,” the barista smiles, her fingers hovering eagerly over a well-worn card machine. My friend and I have been chatting over coffee for hours, immersed in the depths of conversation. “Sorry!” we both blurt out, scrambling for our cards. After two separate attempts, both are declined. Panic-stricken, we try paying with cash instead. “It’s OK. Pop in whenever and you can pay it back then,” she laughs.
Both my friend and I have ADHD (attention deficit hyperactivity disorder) and the symptoms are eerily similar. We struggle with money management, numbers and forgetfulness, all of which are common among people with ADHD. In many ways, ADHD brought us together; we went to the same school, later reconnecting via social media. Expressing that she’d recently been diagnosed with ADHD, a lightbulb went off inside my brain as I was wondering if this was something I was also struggling with. She encouraged me to refer myself for an assessment. Since then, our bond has only strengthened. If my card had been declined while I was with anyone else, I would’ve turned red with embarrassment, but through this friendship I’ve found a way to let go and laugh. It was a joyful, validating moment, a realisation that there was no judgment between us.
An estimated 2.6 million people live with ADHD in the UK. According to ADHD UK, people with the disorder “show a persistent pattern of inattention and/or hyperactivity-impulsivity that interferes with day-to-day functioning and/or development.” There’s no one, universal origin – though genes are responsible for between 70% and 80% of cases.
Adults with ADHD can struggle with organisation and time management, following instructions, focusing on and completing tasks, impulsiveness, coping with stress and feelings of restlessness. Notably, women and girls with ADHD tend to present as mentally rather than physically hyperactive, and as a result, we’re chronically under-diagnosed. According to ADHD Foundation, an estimated 423,000 girls in the UK under 18 have ADHD but are three times less likely than boys to be diagnosed.
After enduring 23 years of inner turmoil, I was finally diagnosed in November 2021 through Psychiatry UK’s Right To Choose pathway. Strangely, it brought an element of peace. My brain never felt like it functioned ‘normally’ – and that was both isolating and confusing. My bank account is always a mess, as is my bedroom; I struggle with procrastination and time management and I’m forever plagued by intense mood swings. A medical diagnosis gave me a label and some vocabulary to navigate my feelings and I understood that I wasn’t alone.
Put another way: my ADHD is part of who I am; I wouldn’t be me without it. I’m endlessly creative and I can decipher new solutions or perceive patterns that neurotypical people might not. My brain is colourful and my people skills are resilient. I can decipher exactly what a person is about the moment I meet them. I can strike up a conversation with a stranger and skip the small talk without fear. Why wouldn’t these attributes be things to celebrate?
London-based Erica Vonderwall, 38, has also found her ADHD journey liberating. Though a diagnosis can bring its own complications, often provoking feelings of regret or frustration, Vonderwall is now able to better navigate her brain. “My ADHD joy comes from understanding my wants and needs and being able to put a name on my behaviour,” she explains. “I’d convinced myself that I was mean and horrible because of how blunt and unforgiving I could be. Now, I know that those are just symptoms of ADHD – they’re not the same as being a bad person. I give myself much more grace for things I previously hated about myself.”
Likewise, Hester Grainger, 44, feels that her diagnosis has allowed her to better understand her brain. Seeking a diagnosis after her two children were assessed, she’s since co-founded neurodiversity consultancy Perfectly Autistic alongside her husband, working to create happier and more productive neurodiverse-friendly workplaces. “My ADHD brings me joy in many ways. I love the way my brain hyper-focuses, particularly on hobbies, and it tends to believe it can do anything. When I was little, I did disco dancing, played squash and tennis… 1000 different things,” she smiles. “I’m very high energy – I’m like a Duracell bunny, loving life. For me, there are a lot of benefits to having ADHD and I’m fortunate to feel that way because a lot of women don’t.”
Similarly, Kate Moryoussef, 42, was diagnosed alongside her daughter and has since used her experiences to focus on community outreach. A Manchester-based ADHD women’s wellbeing coach, her passion lies in using gentle guidance and EFT (emotional freedom technique) to help women with ADHD cultivate self-compassion and self-acceptance. Hosting the ADHD Women’s Wellbeing Podcast, Moryoussef has created an online community of like-minded women – a personal source of empowerment that has helped me greatly. Connecting with it has been as therapeutic as that afternoon my friend and I laughed together as our cards were declined in unison.
Most importantly, Moryoussef believes that ADHD brings its own unique capabilities that should be celebrated. “Entrepreneurship and ADHD often go quite closely together. We’re brilliant blue-sky thinkers and we’re hugely creative. We seem to have an intuitive nod and we’re quite big, philosophical thinkers”, she expresses. “We’re hugely curious, and I think that stems from having to try to understand our psyche before diagnosis.”
But joy aside, ADHD can be hugely debilitating. According to recent research, adults with ADHD are five times more likely to have attempted suicide than those without ADHD. This figure rises to one in four among women. In uplifting the positives, we can’t marginalise or downplay its darker side. “A lot of people say it’s a superpower, but I think that really invalidates the challenges that ADHD comes with,” Moryoussef says. “Yes, we do have strengths, but it can be very hard to see past the lack of self-esteem and the self-criticism.”
So how can women with ADHD find that joy and prioritise self-care? “When I can’t face the world, I outsource a lot of my responsibilities,” Vonderwall explains. “I order in my favourite foods and I sit myself in front of a show I love. I focus only on giving myself space to recharge.” For Grainger, it’s about prioritising rest and practising kindness: “I got to a point where I was really run down because I was always operating at 100 miles an hour. I’d be absolutely wiped. Treating myself is important, whether that’s a magazine or some nice biscuits.”
“Keep leaning into what you love,” Moryoussef advises. “Don’t let conformity hold you back. If you want to dye your hair purple every other week, do it if it makes you happy. Find people who understand, who hold you up,” she expresses. Her biggest piece of advice? “Be true to who you are.” That’s the key to unlocking joy.
I’ve always focused on the differences. “Why isn’t my brain ‘normal’?” and “Why can’t I just do it?” are thoughts that still flit around my head. I’m traversing that long, winding road towards acceptance, and I can be my own worst enemy. But I’m learning to focus on the joy, driven to find those rainbows – however slight – amid the thunderous clouds.
Images: courtesy of author
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