Recently, I was chatting with some of my high school friends when one of them said, “I just had a flashback memory of Kristyn in high school accidentally backing her car up into a gas pump. Am I having a fever dream, or did that really happen?”
Another friend chimed in: “That definitely happened.”
A third friend shared, “Sometimes when I panic that I forgot my keys, I think back to the time we went to Kristyn’s parents’ Pennsylvania house. Halfway there, she realized she didn’t have the house keys. We had to climb through a window to get in.”
Sigh.
I should note that I take absolutely no offense to my friends bringing up these – in hindsight, pretty hilarious – memories. In fact, what came to mind next was the time I forgot my uniform for a cheerleading competition and had to wear my undershirt for the entire day. Embarrassing, I know.
When I look back at my adolescence, I can string together many more instances where I probably came off as uncaring, forgetful, or even straight-up inattentive to others. But to my friends, I was just silly, hilarious, head-in-the-clouds Kristyn.
And to my parents and teachers, I was a thoughtful, well-rounded student: I got good grades, played multiple team sports, and despite almost constantly being reprimanded for talking too much, I’d say I was pretty high-functioning.
Then I went through infertility and became a parent.
Anyone who has been through IVF knows that it’s not the physical demands that are the most difficult; it’s the mental load that comes with it. From the grief of being unable to get pregnant to the many moving parts of treatment, it can be all-consuming, to say the least.
Add twins, a full-time job, and starting my own business on top of that, and you could say things came to a head. From racing thoughts to debilitating anxiety, I simply couldn’t shut my brain off. There was just too much noise, and it became hard to cope.
Around this time, a friend of mine with diagnosed ADHD who knew me well asked me if I thought I might have it. If I was being honest, I hadn’t thought about it before. But once I started putting the pieces together, it all began to make sense:
Being easily distracted
Having trouble staying focused
Forgetfulness
Excessive talking
Anxious thoughts
Overcompensating
And most of all, the extremes of being either completely hyper-fixated on something or entirely disinterested in it.
All my life, I have considered myself clumsy and chaotic. I wondered, “Could this really be why I am the way that I am?”
Still, for the entire next year, I gaslit myself into believing that because I was a high-functioning student, athlete, mom, wife, entrepreneur, sister, and friend, there was no way I could have ADHD. I wasn’t “hyperactive”; I was just a little spacey.
When I finally learned that ADHD is expressed differently in women and girls, it finally clicked.
According to ADD.org, “Gender biases, as well as cultural expectations of girls and women, play a big part in the lower rate of diagnoses. For example, symptoms of inattentiveness are dismissed as daydreaming, or interrupting others can be labeled chattiness. As a result, women struggling with undiagnosed ADHD often have their symptoms misattributed to other factors.”
Because of this, males are almost three times more likely to be diagnosed with ADHD than females.
“But she was always a good student.”
“But she founded her own company!”
“But she was born to be a mom of twins.”
No wonder women are often in their late 30s or early 40s before they are diagnosed with ADHD.
Me, I was officially diagnosed with ADHD earlier this year at 34 years old, and coming to terms with my own neurodivergence has made all the difference in my life.
Personality traits I was once self-conscious about I now consider to be my superpowers. My company, Rescripted, is my greatest hyperfixation. I know what my strengths are and where I may need some extra help. And I have learned how to be an advocate for my own kids’ education as they start school this year.
Will I always pay full attention when you tell me a story about something I have no interest in? I can’t guarantee that. Will I always remember my keys? No sir.
But I’m also creative, kind, and funny as hell. My brain just doesn’t work the same way others do, and that’s kind of beautiful.