But it’s not a curse either.
Every October, ADHD Awareness Month brings another round of conversations about what it means to have an ADHD brain. It’s amazing to see how our community plans all of September to bring mostly great content out in “our” month. It’s also breast cancer month so I get to double celebrate. On October 4, I’ll be cancer free for 11 years. But this isn’t a post about cancer (welcome to my ADHD brain).
This is a post about ADHD.
You’ve probably heard the words
“ADHD is my superpower.”
I get it but I don’t like it.
After decades of hearing ADHD described almost entirely in terms of deficits, calling it a superpower can feel like we own it, like we’re bad*ss in our unique wiring. That maybe just maybe we don’t have to feel defective any more.
After all,
- We're creative.
- We're curious.
- We’re persistent.
- We’re really funny.
- We make connections other people miss.
- We can bring enormous energy to the things that matter to us.
- Many of us are resilient and persistent as hell.
- And we can connect ideas that don't seem connected at first.
There is a lot to appreciate about the way your ADHD brain works.
But I still bristle when anyone calls ADHD a superpower.
Because some days, it doesn't feel particularly super. Some days it feels like adding a yoke on Sisyphus shoulders as he pushes the ball eternally uphill.
"Superpower" Feels Like Pressure
I think the superpower narrative can become especially complicated for midlife women.
First of all most of us weren’t even diagnosed until perimenopause stole our estrogen, the happy little hormone that helped us skate on by all of those years. And if you had breast cancer, maybe it was stripped from you faster than normal (me so yeah I did mention cancer - lol).
You may be managing a career or business.
Helping aging parents.
Supporting children, teenagers, or young adults as they graduate, head to college, look for that first job. Mine is now applying for jobs and grad school while juggling a part time job, a board role, an honors college thesis, and a rigorous academic - hello senior year of college.
Running a household.
Trying to remember appointments, medications, groceries, bills, birthdays, passwords, and where you put the thing you were holding thirty seconds ago.
Perhaps your hormones are changing.
Your sleep is changing.
Your energy is changing.
And the executive function strategies that got you through your thirties aren't working quite as well anymore. Because perimenopause.
Then someone tells you that ADHD is your superpower.
And you think:
Wonderful. Could my superpower please remember why I walked into this room?
That's the piece we sometimes skip.
The Shiny Version of ADHD
The cultural conversation about ADHD often highlights the exciting parts.
- Entrepreneurship.
- Creativity.
- Innovation.
- Risk-taking.
- Hyperfocus.
- Big ideas.
And yes, those can absolutely be part of the ADHD experience.
But there's another side that doesn't make quite as compelling a headline.
- Difficulty initiating a task you desperately want to finish.
- Losing track of time.
- Forgetting something important even though you truly cared about remembering it.
- Struggling to organize a project that makes perfect sense in your head.
- Knowing exactly what you need to do and still being unable to get yourself to begin.
- Feeling exhausted by ordinary life administration.
Those experiences are real too.
And acknowledging them doesn't diminish our strengths.
It makes the conversation more honest.
Context Matters
There's something else I think we need to talk about.
A person's ADHD experience can look very different depending on how much support they have.
It's easier to celebrate being the brilliant big-picture thinker when someone else is handling the calendar.
Or the inbox.
Or bookkeeping.
Or meals.
Or travel logistics.
Or the thousand tiny tasks required to keep a household running.
And I'm going to say it. And some of you aren’t going to like it.
Many midlife women are doing the opposite.
They aren't surrounded by support.
They are the support.
- They're remembering the appointments.
- Managing the family calendar. Hell they ARE the calendar.
- Watching for the prescription refill.
- Following up with the school.
- Checking on Mom at the nursing home.
- Figuring out dinner.
- Keeping track of the things everyone else assumes someone is keeping track of.
Listen some time to who is saying that ADHD is their superpower and I’ll bet (in my completely made-up survey) that 90% of them are bros. Social media is loaded with a lot of messages that make us feel like dreck. Don’t get me wrong. Good for the bros. And sure it can be their superpower because their wives are carrying the rest of the load. And when the wife has ADHD and needs to carry the mental load, well that’s a quick recipe for burnout. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt.
ADHD Doesn't Need Better PR
I don't think we need to replace the old story that ADHD is terrible with a new story that ADHD is amazing.
Both are too simple.
ADHD isn't a superpower.
ADHD isn't a curse.
It's a different way of being wired.
That wiring can bring strengths.
It can also bring genuine challenges with working memory, planning, organization, emotional regulation, task initiation, time awareness, and follow-through.
Both things can be true at once.
That's what I'm calling Honest Brilliance.
Honest Brilliance Leaves Room for the Whole Person
Honest brilliance means I don't have to pretend my ADHD has made every part of my life better in order to appreciate my brain.
I can love the way I make connections and wish I could find my phone.
I can appreciate my creativity and need help with administrative work.
I can be exceptionally good at seeing the big picture and become completely overwhelmed by the twelve small steps required to execute it.
I can be smart and struggle.
I can be capable and need support.
I can be resilient and tired of having to be resilient.
None of those things cancel each other out.
What If We Stopped Trying to Make ADHD Sound Impressive?
This is where I think the superpower conversation can unintentionally create another standard we're supposed to meet.
Now we're not only supposed to manage our ADHD.
We're supposed to be extraordinary because of it.
What if you're not founding a company?
Writing a novel?
Inventing something?
Producing your life's greatest work during hyperfocus?
What if you're using every bit of executive function you have to get through the workday, pick up groceries, and make sure the electric bill gets paid?
That counts too.
You don't owe anyone exceptional achievement as proof that your neurodivergence has value.
Your brain doesn't have to produce something impressive to deserve understanding and support.
You Get to Decide What Language Fits
Some people genuinely love calling their ADHD a superpower.
If that language feels empowering to you, use it.
My concern isn't the word itself.
It's the expectation that we should all feel that way.
For me, there's something far more freeing about saying:
This is my brain.
There are things about it I love.
There are things about it that make my life harder.
And I can build a life that honors both.
That feels much more honest.
And maybe much more brilliant.
This ADHD Awareness Month, I'm less interested in deciding whether ADHD is good or bad.
I'm interested in telling the whole story.
The creativity and the forgotten appointments.
The insight and the overwhelm.
The resilience and the exhaustion.
The strengths and the support we need.
Because we don't have to romanticize ADHD to respect ADHD brains.
We can simply tell the truth.
And there is plenty of brilliance in that.
Keep making room for what matters.
