After ADHD Diagnosis: relief, grief, acceptance, and celebration
If you would like to dive in and learn more about ADHD on your own, here are some sources of information that have been very helpful to me:
Dr. Ned Hallowell’s books and website: drhallowell.com
Mel Robbin’s YouTube video on her ADHD diagnosis in her 40’s.
Dr. Gabor Maté’s book Scattered Minds and website: drgabormate.com
Dr. Melissa Orlov’s The ADHD Affect on Marriage book and blog: adhdmarriage.com
Dr. Judith Orloff’s The Empath’s Survival Guide, and website: drjudithorloff.com
Dr. Richard Schwartz’s book You Are The One You’ve Been Waiting For, and website: ifs-institute.com
I was diagnosed with ADHD (minus the hyperactivity, but with plenty of hyperfocus) in my mid-50s, and it explained so much about how I’ve lived my life. My symptoms were amplified as I entered menopause and lost the estrogen that had quietly buffered my brain for decades. There’s some research on how estrogen levels affect ADHD — ADDitudemag.com has great resources — but much more is needed, especially on how ADHD uniquely shows up in women across the lifespan.
Girls are often underdiagnosed because their symptoms turn inward rather than outward. For “introverted” girls, ADHD is often dismissed as depression, anxiety, or simply “being hormonal.” We need better understanding of how ADHD manifests in women, from childhood to menopause and beyond.
For me, work was always about creativity and freedom. Money or titles never drove me. I needed challenge and novelty to stay focused and energized. That meant I often left jobs once I’d learned what I needed. At the time, I thought I was just following my intuition. Looking back, I see it was also my ADHD brain — craving stimulation, avoiding boredom.
Would I have stayed longer in some roles if I’d known? Maybe. But I also see the gifts: I followed my curiosity, took leaps, and built a layered, unconventional life. Those choices brought me here — to coaching — where I draw on decades of creative and professional experience.
When I was diagnosed, the first wave was relief. I finally understood why I’d always felt like an outsider, why impulsive leaps made sense to me even when they puzzled others. Then came sadness. I grieved what I might have done differently if I’d had this information earlier. After sadness came acceptance: I made the best choices I could with what I knew. And finally, celebration: my ADHD brain gave me an adventurous, creative, textured life.
What deepened this journey was discovering Internal Family Systems (IFS). With IFS, I began to see that my ADHD wasn’t just about distraction or impulsivity — it was about how my system organized itself to cope.
I realized I had parts that stepped in to protect me from overwhelm or shame:
A part that sets harsh boundaries when I’m overwhelmed or pushed too far. It comes in quickly and decisively, cutting things off before I collapse. Sometimes it feels abrupt or even cold, but I’ve learned it’s simply trying to shield me when my system is overloaded.
A part that freezes when there’s too much to handle, keeping me safe from overload. From the outside it might look like procrastination or avoidance, but inside I know it’s my brain pulling the emergency brake to protect me from burning out.
A part that criticizes me when I don’t do something perfectly. It insists that pressure and perfection will keep me on track. This voice can sting, but I now understand it’s terrified of me dropping the ball — and believes criticism is the only way to keep me safe.
Before IFS, I saw these as flaws. Now I see them as guardians. They’ve been working overtime to protect me from a world that can feel “too much” for my sensitive brain.
Through IFS, I’ve learned to pause and ask: Which part is speaking? What is it trying to protect? Instead of pushing these parts away, I thank them for their effort. That simple shift — from fighting myself to relating to myself — has changed everything.
I still live with ADHD. But it feels less like chaos and more like a dialogue with the parts of my system. And I no longer feel broken. I feel whole.
Here are a few strategies that help me thrive with ADHD — and honor my system:
Build a strong foundation. I use my hyperfocus to keep learning about ADHD through books, workshops, and webinars.
Address tolerations. Clearing clutter, handling finances, and letting go of what no longer serves me creates breathing room.
Ground in nature. Walking, gardening, hugging trees, or simply sitting outside helps my nervous system regulate.
Care holistically. Body, mind, and spirit need equal attention.
Create freely. Writing, ceramics, photography, drawing — I let myself move between them without judgment.
If this resonates with you — especially if you’re navigating ADHD, menopause, or both — I’d love to hear from you. Coaching gave me a safe space to sort through the racing thoughts and begin to relate differently to myself. I offer a complimentary 30-minute consultation. Reach out when you’re ready.
