How I Discovered I was ADHD

Seeing myself clearly for the first time

I’ve always been a lot.
Too much, too sensitive, too intense. Told to grow a thicker skin. Told to stop overreacting.

I was also the one who went hard at everything — starting businesses, changing careers, diving into creative projects, moving overseas on a whim. I was confident in a crisis and bold when others were cautious. I could solve anything.

But underneath it all, I felt like a fraud.

Behind the confidence was chaos — unpaid bills, overdue notices, parking fines, running out of petrol, double-booked weekends, and endless spreadsheets mapping out new ways to “get on top of things.” Every time I built a plan, I fell off it just as fast. I was always going to change, going to get organised, going to get ahead.

I was a “gonna.”

And while the world saw someone capable and brave, I carried a constant undercurrent of shame. Every forgotten detail, impulsive decision, or emotional reaction felt like proof that I wasn’t enough.

Hitting the wall

By the time I reached my 40s, I was done. I’d built and rebuilt my life more times than I could count — across countries, businesses, and personal reinventions. I’d weathered grief, motherhood, a pandemic, and burnout.

But this time, I couldn’t bounce back. My elasticity had gone. I remember thinking, something deeper is happening here — I can’t just outwork this one.

Around that time, I started hearing more stories about women my age being diagnosed with ADHD. Their experiences didn’t always sound like mine. They seemed louder, more impulsive, more anxious. I didn’t quite fit the picture — until one story stopped me in my tracks.

The person talked about ADHD that looked… quieter. Strategic. Entrepreneurial. Bold but focused.
Suddenly, it all made sense.

I could finally see myself in the story.

Putting the pieces together

That diagnosis changed everything — and nothing — all at once.

The first year was brutal. I cried a lot. I apologised constantly to my husband for the wife he now had — raw, unravelling, overwhelmed by insight. It felt like I was drinking from a firehose of self-awareness.

I saw all the patterns and could finally name them… but I didn’t yet know what to do with them.

It took time — and a lot of compassion — to realise that seeing myself clearly was the work. That reframing how I understood my past, my decisions, and my emotions wasn’t a distraction from healing; it was healing.

And slowly, the shame started to loosen its grip.

What I see now

Three years on, I’m grateful every single day for that diagnosis. It gave me a new lens — not to fix myself, but to finally understand myself.

My work, my relationships, my energy — all feel different now. Not perfect, not effortless, but aligned.

I’ve learned that awareness really can be a kind of medicine.
That you don’t have to change everything overnight.
That understanding yourself is enough to start changing everything.

And that’s what I want for others too — not a label, but language. Not a fix, but freedom.

Because once you see yourself clearly, you can finally exhale. 🌿

If this story sounds familiar, you’re not alone — Exhale Coaching offers space to explore your own patterns and find your flow.