Reading About Myself in Third Person (And Not Recognizing Me at All)
I once stumbled across a corporate guide titled something like “Supporting Employees with ADHD.” It was written with good intentions, I could tell. The words were careful, the tone neutral, the science neatly laid out. It listed things like impulsivity, disorganization, trouble with focus. It was all very… professional. But as I read it, I felt a strange disconnect. Is that supposed to be me? Or is that just me on a chaotic Wednesday with a dead phone battery and a to-do list that’s more like a novella?
5/8/20252 min read
Reading about yourself in someone else’s words is like seeing your reflection in a funhouse mirror. The shape is vaguely familiar, but the details? They’re off. The guide wasn’t wrong — I do misplace my keys (daily), I can jump from one idea to another like a caffeinated squirrel, and I definitely feel emotions like they’re on a rollercoaster with no brakes. But that’s not the whole story.
What the guide didn’t mention is how I can spot a pattern in a mess no one else sees. How I can connect with someone in a way that makes them feel truly heard. Or how, on a good day, my brain is a fireworks show of ideas that somehow land in the right place. Those parts don’t make it into the manuals. They don’t fit the “deficit” narrative.
The problem isn’t the facts. It’s the framing. It’s the subtle implication that people like me are puzzles to be solved, risks to be managed, instead of humans with a different kind of wiring. It’s the way those guides make you wonder: Should I tell my boss about my ADHD? Will they see me as a liability? Or should I keep it to myself and hope I don’t burn out trying to pass as “normal”?
I’ve wrestled with that question more times than I can count. Some days, I’m open about it, sharing what helps me thrive. Other days, I guard it like a secret, not because I’m ashamed, but because not every space deserves my story. What I’ve learned is this: you don’t have to hand over your entire blueprint to be understood. You can share what works — a need for clear deadlines, a preference for written notes — without labeling it. You get to decide what to share and what to save.
If you’re nodding along, feeling that weird mix of recognition and frustration, I’ve got something for you. I wrote a guide — nothing heavy, just a few honest words from someone who’s been there. It’s about navigating ADHD at work, knowing when to speak up, and protecting your energy without apologizing for who you are. You can download it here to dig a little deeper.
You’re not a checklist in someone else’s HR binder. You’re a person, with strengths that don’t always make it onto the page. And that’s more than enough.
Want to know more about balancing ADHD? Check out the full guide here
© 2025. All rights reserved.
Join our community of working moms with ADHD