Hello! My name is Leah, I’m the CEO here at Action Hampshire and I have ADHD. October is ADHD Awareness Month so I’ve taken the opportunity to jot some thoughts down about my own experience as a neurodivergent person working in the VCSE sector.
Joining the ADHD late diagnosis club
I found out I had ADHD at age 37, so I’m part of what we call the ‘late diagnosis club’. ADHD doesn’t develop in adulthood – it’s present from childhood – but due to lack of understanding, and deeply rooted sexism and ablism, many people, especially women, are undiagnosed – particularly when I was growing up, when ADHD was even more poorly understood than it is now.
ADHD stands for ‘Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder’ but it’s not a very accurate name – I don’t have a deficit of attention, my attention is dysregulated. My ADHD affects my memory, focus, emotional resilience, organisation, relationships, and many other parts of my life. So how is it possible that I did I not know about my ADHD for 37 years? Well the truth is, it’s not. I’ve known for as long as I can remember. I just didn’t know it was called ADHD!
Before I knew I had ADHD
Instead of ADHD, I called myself messy and clumsy. I’ve been told by teachers and colleagues that I’m “forgetful, untidy and disorganised”, behaviour that was interpreted as rudeness and disinterest. I can’t hold a pen for more than 2 minutes without ink ending up all over my hands. I cover every surface of my house in clutter, spill my morning coffee on the floor every day, and am constantly losing my phone, keys and other essential items. I forget to do the most basic of tasks like take daily vitamins and message friends on their birthdays without a complex system of reminders and notifications.
Instead of ADHD, I called myself lazy and unmotivated. Throughout my life I have described myself as having two modes: Incredibly productive or sofa sloth. Sometimes, I just can’t do the thing I need to be doing, no matter how important it is or how much I do want to do it. This is interpreted by others as a choice – teachers told me I was “allowing myself to succumb to inaction” and could do better. Colleagues chased me repeatedly, not realising this made it even harder for me to get it done and interpreting my inaction as disrespectful. My friends felt disappointed when I had to cancel plans due to low energy.
Instead of ADHD, I called myself bossy. I have always found independent work so much easier to working in groups, a result of the communication and relationship difficulties I face interacting with neurotypical people who don’t understand me, and a lifetime of being othered. I’ve always had an internal energy that never seems to stop which fills my head with ideas, ideas which I become hyperfocused on and act on impulsively, to the frustration of other people.
Instead of ADHD, I called myself difficult, awkward and weird. I’ve always had an innate sense that people didn’t like me (it’s called ‘rejection sensitivity dysphoria’ and it’s caused by a lifetime of rejection and bullying – conscious and unconscious), that I acted silly and not like other people. My teachers told me that my “behaviour gets in the way of learning” and I struggled to fit in with peer groups at school and in work environments. I talk a lot, struggling not to interrupt and overshare. I’ve learned to mask my true interests and personality around most people, which creates barriers to letting people truly get to know me.
I was struggling, but none of us knew enough about ADHD to recognise what was there in plain sight. Instead of challenges I faced because of my disability, these things were seen, by myself and others, as my own personal shortcomings and character flaws. I found ways to mask them, strategies that helped me cope and work around them, and I lived (and continue to live) with a significant amount of negativity about myself as a result. I didn’t know that ADHD is a neurodevelopmental disability, something that isn’t my fault. I didn’t know that I was entitled to reasonable accommodations at work, to legal protections, to a community of support and understanding amongst fellow neurodivergent people.
Claiming my neurodivergence
Neurodivergence is the umbrella term for Autistic, ADHD, Dyslexic, Dyspraxic, etc people. Neurodivergent people see from a young age that we are different to our peers. Our peers see it too, and – usually subconsciously – reject and critique us for it. Did you know that, by the age of 10, ADHD children receive 20,000 MORE negative or correcting comments than their neurotypical (that’s the term for people who aren’t neurodivergent) peers (Jellinek, 2010)?
In response to these critiques, Autistic and ADHDers learn to ‘mask’ their struggles – learn to mirror and replicate the behaviours of neurotypical peers – which makes it harder to see one’s true neurodivergent self. Masking is exhausting, and has contributed to me having two periods of burnout in the past four years.
Finding out about my ADHD has been transformational for me, and has mirrored the coming out process I went through over twenty years ago, when I discovered I was queer (an umbrella term used by LGBTQIA+ people and how I prefer to identify). Finding community amongst people who shared my queer identity is what led me to embark on a career in the VCSE sector. Finding community with fellow neurodivergent people has been incredibly affirming and inspirational. This is the power of community, particularly for anyone who has experienced marginalisation and exclusion. This is at the core of what drives me to work in our sector, and what makes that work so fulfilling.
Recognising my ADHD has also allowed me to see my own strengths – I’m an incredible problem solver, excellent in a crisis and can do literally anything, as long as I find it interesting. I’m super creative and love making plans. And I’m hilarious and fun! I have far more strengths than I have weaknesses. My own journey to recognise my strengths has also enabled me to lead the Action Hampshire team through a process of doing strengths profiles and recognising our individual and collective strengths, so that each person can adapt their role and working patterns and style to do more of what they love and what energises them. (If this sounds interesting, please get in touch – I love talking about strengths profiles and how other organisations can use them!)
Why am I sharing this?
Well, as I mentioned at the beginning, October is ADHD Awareness month. I firmly believe that one of the biggest barriers to my being able to access support and to see my own strengths was a lack of awareness, and one of the best things that’s happened since I have had that awareness is starting to build community around this newly articulated part of my identity. By sharing my experience, I hope to help others, especially other women in the VCSE sector, to recognise and celebrate their neurodivergence. I hope to help allies know what to do and what not to do.
So, here are some top tips (focused on neurodivergence in the workplace):
Please DON’T:
- Ask people if they are neurodivergent
- Ask people about their diagnosis or medication journey (both are currently traumatic experiences in the UK, with waiting lists of 7+ years in some areas and a medication shortage that has forced thousands of people to go without life-saving medication without any back-up plan)
- Say “But you don’t seem like you have ADHD/Autism/etc” or make assumptions based on knowing one person with ADHD or Autism or another neurodivergence – we’re all very different!
- Expect the tools and strategies that work for you as a neurotypical person to work for neurodivergent people
- Imply that everyone is a little bit ADHD because you also sometimes forget things or focus from time to time
- Expect to harness the strengths that neurodivergent people bring if you’re not willing to make adjustments to the workplace, your communication, etc which allow us to thrive
Please DO:
- Educate yourself and others about neurodivergence
- Celebrate and encourage a neurodiverse workforce (neurodiversity is the umbrella term that includes both neurodivergent and neurotypical people)
- Demonstrate that you are an ally by using inclusive language, adopting neuroinclusive policies, talking about neurodivergence in a positive way
- Encourage self awareness and a strengths-based approach for all of your team members (please be in touch to find out more about how we’re introducing this at Action Hampshire!)
- Provide flexibility, letting people work from home, at hours which work best for them (which also supports those with caring responsibilities, anxiety, etc)
Has a colleague told you they’re neurodivergent?
- Ask what reasonable adjustments they need AND provide them
- Support them to apply for Access to Work, a government grant which is COMPLETELY FREE for organisations with less than 50 employees and can provide things like software, desks/chairs, coaching and training to support anyone with a disability, which includes ADHD and other neurodivergent people
- Encourage them to find community – there are some great online groups as a starting point!
Didn’t think you had ADHD before reading this blog but now not sure?
- ADHD UK has a free self-screening tool to help you think about it more – follow this link to the self-screening tool
- Buy a book or two. I highly recommend Leanne Maskell’s ADHD A to Z as a starting place.
- Join Facebook groups (search ADHD and you’ll find loads – join a big one and give it a try) or webinar (ADHD UK runs these regularly) or podcast (A Dopamine Kick and many others)
- Follow neurodivergent-affirming, high quality content creators on social media platforms like Leanne Maskell, Ellie Middleton, Alex Partridge, etc
Fellow neurodivergent looking for community?
- Want to swap stories and resources, set up a support group, be friends, etc?
- If you would be interested in attending a webinar about how charities can support employees to receive Access to Work support.
- If you would like a quote to roll-out strengths profile debriefs and coaching or neurodiversity inclusion training for your VCSE organisation.
Follow this link to contact us
