I have ADHD but my brain isn't broken
The many labels I've carried since my ADHD diagnosis - and how others have reinforced or relieved the weight of those
The power of a label
Before I knew I had ADHD, I had a hundred other labels for myself - energiser bunny, never good enough, a procrastinator, over-thinker, excited about everything, organised, high performer, easily discarded by others, and someone who couldn’t be loved unconditionally.
These labels had negative undertones and I was viewing them as the total sum of who I was. These limiting self beliefs stayed with me for years, and were reinforced again and again by myself and others. Looking back now I do grieve for the life I could have had if I’d known sooner that I had ADHD. But I carried these labels and were weighed down by them long before I even knew what I was truly carrying.
The labels I inherited
I don’t remember much from my childhood, but I can distinctly remember - and in such vivid detail too - being bullied at Intermediate and being called “little miss perfect”, “teachers pet” and “goody goody two shoes”. Those labels lingered with me for a long time and were how I didn’t want to be identified as. So I shrank and became very quiet.
Now that I’m an adult - and I’ve been adulting for awhile now - it’s been eye opening to say the least, to look back and acknowledge the eerily similar and parallel labels that I’ve been carrying at work before my diagnosis. I’ve been told that I was a people pleaser, I over compensate, I do too much to try to be perfect, and that I talk and think too fast. I didn’t even realise that I was carrying some of these, but I was, and those labels were getting heavier and heavier until I was diagnosed with severe combined ADHD in August 2024.
Because of these pre-diagnosis labels, my work habits changed too. I’m not sure when this started (I have such a strong sense that it was in the last 18 months at least) but I felt I had to over perform, there was a lot of pressure to mask how challenging I was finding things and to fit in, and I felt I had to shrink myself and quieten my voice that seemed to not be wanted or appreciated.
When I finally got my diagnosis, I thought the labels would fall away. Some did. But new ones came in to take their place.
The labels after diagnosis
I went through a very typical grief process when I was first diagnosed. “Suddenly having ADHD” really impacted my sense of self. It felt like I didn’t know who I was anymore, it felt like I was to blame for all the challenges and bad things that had happened throughout my life, and it felt like my brain was just broken. I didn’t even know what ADHD was when I first diagnosed, so although this label brought some relief, it also brought stigma.
Labels can both validate or confine a person, and they don’t stick on their own. They’re echoed, reinforced, or sometimes lifted - by the people around us. And nowhere has that been more true for me than in the relationships in and out of work that shaped how I saw myself now that I knew I had ADHD.
Who sees me for me
Living with ADHD is like being on a fast moving train with a brain that doesn’t always follow the tracks. Sometimes the train smoothly travels between stations, and other time there is a signal fault that derails into overwhelm, forgetfulness, or a thousand competing and swirling squirrel thoughts. What I’ve learned and what I believe is so critical for a newly diagnosed sparkly brain human, is that who sits beside you on this train ride matters deeply.
It matters deeply because once the diagnosis hit, my inner dialogue was one of blame and shame. I needed people to sit next to me, hold my hand, and provide the reassurance I couldn’t give myself. Instead of pointing out every bump, every swerve, every delay, and every wrong turn again and again and again; I needed help to believe that my ADHD wasn’t the catch-all reason for everything that went wrong. The diagnosis didn’t bring understanding, it brought a lot of judgement and it has taken a significant amount of time to re-build myself and understand and accept who I truly am.
Thankfully I have many people who choose to ride on the train with me without needing to change the route. The ones who see my attention stretching in every direction and don’t call it a flaw, who are impressed by how I am able to juggle many balls and create clear pathways through chaos. The ones who remind me that even when I am all over the place - that I am not alone, I’m seen, I’m loved, I’m enough. I will be forever grateful to my inner circle who with care and love have been the greatest antidote for my shame.
At work, my manager has also been a significant force in helping me shed some of the labels. One bit of advice he’s said to me post diagnosis and that has stuck - is for me to do less because I’m doing very well in my job, I am not disappointing him, and doing less will help me re-frame the labels and expectations I am putting on myself.
I am healing my blame and shame with a shift in language and shift in perspective from myself and others.
Aroreretini - a new way to frame ADHD
ADHD clinically stands for - Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. The words deficit and disorder confine and label in the negative and it’s taken a lot of work for me not to continue to believe that I am broken and need to be fixed.
In New Zealand the Maori word for ADHD is aroreretini. This translates to “attention goes to many things”.
Aroreretini is a label that doesn’t pathologize, and describes ADHD in a way that feels very real for me. It shifts perspectives from:
Broken to wired differently
Not enough to does enough
Scattered to makes quick connections across multiple things.
For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like a problem to be fixed. I feel like someone who simply needs space and understanding to move and think differently so I can regulate my attention in a more effective way.
Not all labels are bad
Some labels really do help us name, understand, accept, and advocate for being seen, heard and valued.
So now, I’m choosing my own words and labels. And with them, the way I see myself.
I am deep-feeling, still learning, lovable, still unfolding, and doing the best I can. I am a good person. These labels feel lighter. More like me.
I am Lusi, I am 41 years old, and I have a spicy sparkly brain. My ADHD makes up a huge part of who I am, but I am more than just that too. I am a proud mama bear to the most amazing wee girl, I am a Senior Manager in the technology product space in NZ, I am going through peri-menopause, and I am finally brave enough to start talking about who I am more openly and proudly.