How did it happen?
Last year, at the ripe age of 41, I was diagnosed with ADHD. They call it “late diagnosed ADHD”. Some say it’s a ‘trend’ taking over social media, filled with relatable memes that everyone can laugh at and say, “Oh, I do that.” But you know, I used to be one of those people. In fact, having multiple diagnosed neurodiverse (ND) individuals in my immediate family, I considered myself pretty well-educated on ADHD and Autism. I could often identify other ND people quite easily. How on earth did I miss my own diagnosis?
The Missed Signs
A Perceived Sense of Control
Perhaps it’s because I felt like I had my life together:
- I would never leave the house without everything I needed.
- I diligently added everything to my calendar, so I never missed an appointment.
- I never missed a bill because everything was on autopay.
- I’m a clean freak, so I outsourced my cleaning to ensure I didn’t obsess over it.
But beneath this seemingly perfect exterior:
- I identified as a perfectionist and was my own worst critic.
- I was never happy in a long-term job (the longest was three years, and when I left, I was having severe panic attacks).
- I hated working 9-5, but I thought there was something wrong with me.
Red Flags and Burnouts
Reflecting back, I can identify three major burnouts in my life:
- Age 16 – Year 12. Anxiety attacks began, manifesting in slurred speech and loss of motor skills. I remember playing netball and being unable to move, and teachers lecturing us on making major career decisions.
- Age 33 – My Divorce. I handled the divorce quite well until I got through all the hard stuff like moving back to Australia, selling our joint house, and moving into my new house all by myself. When it was safe to do so, my body literally fell apart. I was constantly injuring myself and ended up with bulged discs in my back.
- Age 41 – If I reflect on this recent burnout, I can probably identify it starting well before I turned 40 in 2022. I was working long hours, travelling with my partner for his work post-COVID—working across 3-4 time zones, never switching off.
The Breaking Point
Fast forward to an impromptu getaway in January 2023. I lost my temper over bedside tables at a hotel room in Sorrento. They were permanently placed too far away from the bed, and I couldn’t accept that they were not within arm’s reach! In frustration, my partner said, “If you don’t like it, just leave.” Something snapped in me, and I got in an Uber, travelled 1.5 hours home, and left him there.
A week later, I got shingles big time—all across my back and chest. It was pretty awful, and it took a year to recover properly. I kept working through it. But my partner did say that I needed to see a psychologist because something was not right.
The Diagnosis
I took his feedback on board, and that’s how I ended up with an ADHD diagnosis. At first, I refused to accept it—I had my life together on the outside. But on the inside, I was a mess of self-doubt, self-loathing, and just so much noise.
My psychologist helped me realise that women often don’t present like the classic ADHD stereotype. Instead, we are anxious and self-critical. We’ve grown up trying to make ourselves smaller because we’ve had constant feedback that we are ‘too much’—too loud, too emotional, too everything. We are hyper-aware of our faults and end up being our own worst critics, pointing out all our flaws before anyone else has a chance to.
The Reckoning
Post-diagnosis is a reckoning. It’s mourning for the person you could have been if only you had known that you were good enough. It’s realising that maybe people don’t hate you as much as you think they do. It’s realising that your perceived flaws in a conventional workforce are actually major assets if harnessed in the right way.
But what it has allowed me to do is sit with feelings of negativity, acknowledge them, and tell them to bugger off because I am good enough. I need to believe in myself because if I don’t, nobody will.
The Future
ADHD diagnosis has given me the permission to like myself, so the future is already looking brighter. It has allowed me to see my strengths and understand my weaknesses in a new light. For solopreneurs, business owners, and anyone navigating the complexities of being neurodiverse, know that self-acceptance is key. It’s not just about managing your symptoms but celebrating who you are.
If you resonate with my story, take a moment to reflect on your own experiences. Seek the help you need, and remember, you are good enough. Your unique brain can be your greatest asset.
Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments or reach out directly. Let’s continue this conversation and support each other in this journey of self-acceptance and growth.
Stay strong,
Kate
