I Was Told I’d Never Equate to Anything. Here’s What ADHD Taught Me Instead.
Hi, my name is Lucy and I was diagnosed with ADHD (combined type) at 23.
For most of my life, I thought there was something fundamentally wrong with me.
As a child, I was “the funny one.” Chatty, loud and full of energy. I was often told off for being disruptive, but I never understood why. At school, I quickly learned to mask, becoming quiet and high-achieving. I internalised the misconception that boys could be rowdy and girls should be calm and organised, so I forced myself to appear that way. By the time I got home at the end of the day, I exploded emotionally.
My self-worth collapsed by secondary school. I was in a grammar school surrounded by high achievers and was convinced I was the least intelligent in every room. I struggled with focus, organisation and deadlines, but assumed I was simply weaker for not coping. I saw myself as lazy, stupid and pathetic. My headmaster told me that I wasn’t good enough for A Levels and “wouldn’t equate to anything in life.”
At 16, I dropped out of college. The shame was unbearable. I was labelled “the drop-out,” which I laughed off publicly but felt deeply. I desperately wanted to succeed, but couldn’t manage the unstructured environment or keep up with coursework. Without understanding why, I believed I failed again. At 19, I returned to education, determined to prove I wasn’t a failure.
Over the next few years, I was treated for anxiety and depression. My GP prescribed antidepressants and referred me to counselling, yet my ADHD went completely unnoticed in healthcare settings. During this time, I developed unhealthy and often dangerous coping mechanisms linked to emotional dysregulation and dopamine seeking.
In contrast, ADHD showed its strengths. In highly stressful or chaotic situations where I was expected only to react, not manage my time or workload, my brain was calm and focused.
In 2022, I was recommended counselling from Children North East and that’s when my life began to change.
For the first time, I had consistent, long-term therapeutic support. My counsellor helped me explore my childhood, coping mechanisms and patterns. I mentioned how being distracted by my surroundings during an EMDR session from previous counselling made me question whether I have ADHD, so she incorporated this into our sessions. Everything started to click. With her support, I began researching properly. I recognised myself in the inattentiveness, emotional dysregulation, hyperfocus, burnout, dopamine seeking and masking.
I spoke to my GP and was placed on a waiting list, later told it could take up to 6 years. I was incredibly fortunate to access a private assessment and was diagnosed with ADHD combined type.
Diagnosis brought overwhelming relief, but also anguish. I know that had I received support earlier, I wouldn’t have been a child punished for symptoms she didn’t understand, or a teenager told she was worthless and believing it.
ADHD in girls and women is still under-recognised. Many internalise symptoms rather than externalise them. We’re often treated for anxiety or depression without anyone asking what’s driving those experiences in the first place.
With diagnosis came education support, including weekly 1×1 study skills sessions and assistive software. With medication and the right adjustments, everything changed. I graduated with a First Class Honours, received a Pro-Vice Chancellor award and won Best Tourism Student. The girl once told she “wouldn’t equate to anything in life” proved otherwise!
ADHD didn’t disappear. I still need structure and support. Some days are harder than others. But I now know how to cope, adjust and communicate when I find things challenging.
Today, I work for Children North East. The same charity that supported me when I needed it most. Supporting young people now feels like a full-circle moment and I try to share parts of my story so others know they aren’t alone. I see so many young people who remind me of my younger self: bright, funny, overwhelmed, misunderstood. Representation matters. Understanding matters.
To neurodivergent readers: you are not lazy. You are not dramatic. You are not wrong. You deserve support, not shame.
To parents and carers: if your child seems overwhelmed, emotionally reactive, perfectionistic, exhausted, or struggling disproportionately with organisation, trust your instincts. Neurodivergence can look different from stereotypes, particularly in girls.
To neurotypical readers: ADHD is not simply being disorganised and quirky. It’s a neurodevelopmental condition affecting executive function, emotional regulation and reward processing. With the right understanding and adjustments, we can thrive.
Awareness of ADHD and neurodivergence has grown significantly in recent years, which is a positive and necessary shift. However, neurodivergent conditions remain under-researched and underfunded, particularly in women and marginalised communities. Other forms of neurodivergence, such as dyspraxia and dyscalculia, receive even less attention. Increased awareness must be matched with investment in research and meaningful support so that no one is left waiting years for answers.
Sometimes I wonder how life might have been different with an earlier diagnosis. But I also know this: my experiences shaped my empathy, resilience and determination.
ADHD is not my failure. It’s part of my wiring.
Different isn’t wrong.
If you’re questioning whether you’ll ever “equate to anything in life” I promise you will. With the right support, and acceptance we can and will thrive.
*Name changed and stock image used to protect identity.
