Receiving an ADHD diagnosis later in life brought a deep and enduring sense of validation. It continues to matter because it gives me rationale, language and legitimacy to experiences I still have. For years, I believed that the difficulties I encountered were evidence that I wasn’t trying hard enough or wasn’t good enough. In reality, I was working exceptionally hard — often expending far more effort than my peers — but doing so with a brain that processes time, information and emotion differently.

Looking back, many of the signs were present from primary School onwards, but misunderstood. I have always been a fast talker, a ‘joiner’ signing up to everything and ‘busy’ doing many things at the same time.  I can complete tasks very quickly (as long as I get a ‘buzz’ from doing them) and am always misplacing things as I get easily distracted.  All traits now recognised as common in ADHD, particularly in women. I achieved highly at school as I was a people pleaser and competitive, but School reports described me as chatting too much or distracting others, rather than using positive descriptions of social, curious, or fast‑thinking. I regularly take on too much, driven by my passions and interests, but also by the ADHD tendency towards novelty and difficulty judging capacity.

Being ‘just’ on time, or late for things that aren’t ‘hard’ deadlines — something I still experience — is not carelessness, but time blindness: an optimistic view of what I can do in a period of time and an inability to sense the passage of time when I am in hyper focus on a task. Losing or misplacing items is not a lack of responsibility, but the result of being easily distracted by competing stimuli. Being labelled “gullible” or teased for missing social cues reflects differences in information processing, not a lack of intelligence or judgement. These traits were and still are treated as character flaws rather than neurological differences, which have lasting effects on my self esteem and confidence.

I continue to experience significant self‑doubt and a very loud inner critic. Rejection sensitivity, a common ADHD trait, means feedback can feel deeply personal and emotionally overwhelming, particularly in hierarchical environments where concerns are escalated rather than addressed through compassionate conversation. Small misunderstandings can feel reputationally damaging, reinforcing the urge to work harder to prove my worth and to justify my actions, as I can’t stand thinking that people might believe I am lazy, incompetent or rude, even though I acknowledge that without understanding of neurodivergence, this is how some behaviours might look.

Having said all of this, the more I understand my presentation of ADHD, the more I recognise that many of my greatest strengths are because of my neurodivergence. Operating quickly, being able to see connections and patterns in work streams, between strategies, initiatives, people and communities, and bringing energy and enthusiasm to my work are ADHD‑linked strengths. My ability to hyperfocus allows deep immersion in areas I care about. My empathy and strong sense of social justice are central to why I have continued to work in EDI and social responsibility. ADHD has helped me build resilience and determination.  I am proud of how I have navigated my career with ADHD, navigating difficulties and finding my own way through. I am also proud to be the parent of a child who also has a creative, curious, problem‑solving mind and for us so far having helped him to see it only as a strength in its difference, not as a weakness as long as he understands it, and those around him are aware of what he needs to succeed.  This is the future I hope we can create, where neurodivergence is just that, a ‘difference’ rather than a disorder.

A call to action 

If you’re a leader or a people manager, I would ask that you consider shifting from assumption to supportive curiosity. Behaviours such as lateness, defensiveness, or feeling overwhelmed by additional or unexpected changes are often interpreted as issues of competence or commitment. For many neurodivergent people, they are signals of time blindness, rejection sensitivity, cognitive overload or difficulty processing rapid change.

Taking time to understand what sits behind these behaviours — and making small, thoughtful adjustments — can significantly improve both experience and performance. Crucially, what we learn should inform how we reflect on our wider policies, processes and practices. By asking who our systems work well for, and who they unintentionally exclude, we create environments where more people can reach their full potential. This would make for a more equitable experience for neurodivergent colleagues.

Daniele Atkinson – Social Responsibility Manager in FSE

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