ADHD Doesn’t Mean You Can’t Be Successful (But You’ll Have To Try Harder)

Until about three years ago, I thought everyone’s brain incessantly whirred with a hundred things they urgently need to action. I also thought everyone had a non-stop inner monologue that repeatedly flagged all the things they were failing at.

To everyone else, I was the model child: sociable, polite, smart, and funny. But in reality, I carried deep you’re-just-not-good-enough anxiety – from the pressure of trying to meet the neurotypical expectations I faced all day, every day, every damn day.

And here’s the wild truth: because girls didn’t have ADHD in the 90s, I internalised ALL OF IT for 36 years.

My ADHD timeline

1985: A star was born. Nuff said.

1993: This is my first memory of proper (where it feels like actual pain) Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria (RSD), when Stephanie invited Lauren for a sleepover…and not me.

1996: I moved from Glasgow to Leeds so my mum could be closer to her family, which meant starting high school in a different country, in a bright pink Kappa coat, with no mates. My anxiety skyrocketed and I pined for and obsessed over my old life for months – to me, it felt like I shouldn’t be in Leeds.

I called my Scottish best friend every night, desperately trying to hold onto the relationship, but we were twelve! Of course we lost touch. Why do we feel everything so deeply?

1997-2000: In the subjects I liked, I was invested (thank you interest-based nervous system!), but even then, I used to suddenly become aware that I’d missed huge chunks of lessons because my brain was that noisy.

In the subjects I hated, I just couldn’t apply myself, or process the information, so I used humour as a distraction, and you guessed it, they’re the subjects I flunked!

2001 – 2003: Tried to revise for my GCSEs/A-Levels and it became even clearer that my brain was a sieve, which resulted in intense cramming sessions before each exam and made me feel like I was living a lie – I wasn’t the smart girl everyone thought I was.

My exam results were decent enough to get me to uni – but I always had that niggling feeling I could’ve done better. My parents ended up getting me a maths tutor so I could re-sit my maths exam – I remember wondering how the fork everyone else found it so easy…

2006: I wrote my university dissertation in a week – which sounds impressive, but 70% of it was fuelled by Pro Plus in an intense all-nighter the night before deadline – when I was supposed to have worked on it all year. Now how’s that for hyperfocus?

2007: I found my passion for copywriting in my first marketing job at Yorkshire Post Newspapers. For the first time in my life, I felt good (enough) at something.

2009: My first love (infatuation) cheated on me after five years, and RSD hit hard. When I say I played that relationship back in my mind solidly for six months, I’m playing it down.

But, in true ADHD style, out of sight, out of mind kicked in, and I swapped heartbreak for an impulsive pixie cut, eight tattoos, and a carefree lifestyle. (You can imagine.)

2010: Someone (awesome) noticed my writing talent, took a chance on me, and offered me a job as a radio copywriter. My short attention span was in its element writing 30-second adverts – I’d found my thing.

2010 – 2016: Throughout this period, I lived a life of absolute chaos with an impressive chairdrobe, several lost phones, a fluctuating body size, impulsive trips all over the world, a vibrant social life, and many a lost memory.

I’ve now realised that I used booze as a crutch, and food as my go-to dopamine hit – which did nothing for my waistline or self-esteem.

Career-wise, I went through the ranks as a radio copywriter and ended up with the Creative Director title I’d always wanted, but the industry gradually became more corporate, and I often felt my creativity stifle.

I struggled with the constant-meeting-culture of the corporate world, but the people I worked with (some of whom became lifelong friends) always kept me invested.

2017- 2018: After years of boredom-dodging, I ‘grew up’, started a relationship with my radio bestie, and had a baby. I felt ecstatic! I was finally happy in every area of my life. Until things started to spiral. I’d only ever had to look after me, and quite honestly flew by the seat of my pants!

The increased responsibility of a little munchkin made my ADHD symptoms blow UP. I quietly ruminated, obsessed, procrastinated, and self-sabotaged – somehow hiding my crippling anxiety and overwhelm (even from my partner) – hoping it’d all go away.

2020: I was SO excited to get back to my career, but when I returned from maternity leave, everything was different. Imposter syndrome crept in, and a combination of the mum-juggle, more work in less time, a hefty commute, and unrealistic expectations forced me to quit my job. (Yep, in a pandemic.) But I had to put my mental health first.

Did I feel like a failure? Totally! But I was getting married, so I buried ALL. OF. IT.

2021: Had another baby. Rather than allowing myself to focus completely on my newborn, I obsessed over my next career move. I knew I wanted to do something super creative, but my interest-based-nervous-system and I didn’t quite think it all through…

Also 2021: I entered my uber-impulsive era. I decided I wanted to be a baby photographer and bought the camera of dreams (without any photography experience – apart from bangin’ selfies). I also invested in a laser cutting machine (also disgustingly expensive) to simultaneously make and sell crafts – only to hate both.

At this point I knew that this was more than being a bit scatty and indecisive – but put it down to hormones…

2022: During a coffee with an old colleague, they asked why I was letting my copywriting talent go to waste. When I asked myself that question, I realised I’d fallen out of love with the industry I was in, not the craft. It was a lightbulb moment. As soon as I got home, I hyperfocused for about a week to set up You Need Words – and people actually did need words!

I was BUZZING.

Also 2022: Got my ADHD diagnosis. Everything made SO much sense.

2023: Got my little lad’s ADHD diagnosis. I’m already advocating for him to save him decades of feeling like he’s getting in his own way (but not understanding why).

Now: The flexibility that comes with being a freelancer is perfect for my prone-to-burnout brain. I get to work with ace clients, and be around for my little family (and the boss is super supportive!).

I’m not saying that becoming self-employed has miraculously cured my ADHD, because that’d be ridiculous (although the stats do show that adults with ADHD are 300% more likely to start their own business!). The fact is, I still experience the setbacks that come with the condition – but now I can manage it all on my watch. If I need a last-minute day off to give my overloaded brain a break, I take it. If I’m in my hyperfocus era and want to write a blog in bed, in my pyjamas, I can.

Moral of the story: Sometimes living with ADHD feels impossible. Trust me, I get it. It can steal your confidence, your ability to follow things through, and often feel like everyone else is way ahead of you. But you just need to find your thing. And when you find it, do it, do it at your own pace, and don’t give up.

Stop comparing yourself to everyone else and surround yourself with your people. You probably will have to put in more effort than a neurotypical person would, and there’ll be bumps along the road, but that’s okay. Just by getting to where you are now, you’ve already accomplished more than some will in a lifetime. You CAN do this.