An estimated 2.6 million people live with ADHD in the UK. According to ADHD UK, people with the disorder “show a persistent pattern of inattention and/or hyperactivity-impulsivity that interferes with day-to-day functioning and/or development.” There’s no one, universal origin – though genes are responsible for between 70% and 80% of cases.

Adults with ADHD can struggle with organisation and time management, following instructions, focusing on and completing tasks, impulsiveness, coping with stress and feelings of restlessness. Notably, women and girls with ADHD tend to present as mentally rather than physically hyperactive, and as a result, we’re chronically under-diagnosed. According to ADHD Foundation, an estimated 423,000 girls in the UK under 18 have ADHD but are three times less likely than boys to be diagnosed.

After enduring 23 years of inner turmoil, I was finally diagnosed in November 2021 through Psychiatry UK’s Right To Choose pathway. Strangely, it brought an element of peace. My brain never felt like it functioned ‘normally’ – and that was both isolating and confusing. My bank account is always a mess, as is my bedroom; I struggle with procrastination and time management and I’m forever plagued by intense mood swings. A medical diagnosis gave me a label and some vocabulary to navigate my feelings and I understood that I wasn’t alone.

Put another way: my ADHD is part of who I am; I wouldn’t be me without it. I’m endlessly creative and I can decipher new solutions or perceive patterns that neurotypical people might not. My brain is colourful and my people skills are resilient. I can decipher exactly what a person is about the moment I meet them. I can strike up a conversation with a stranger and skip the small talk without fear. Why wouldn’t these attributes be things to celebrate?

“My ADHD isn’t always debilitating – it’s often joyful”