ADHD - Looking beyond the myths.

ADHD is something I’ve become increasingly aware of through people I know and care about. I have family members and friends with ADHD, and over the years I’ve learnt more about how differently it can affect people’s lives.

But I haven’t worked professionally with ADHD, so this isn’t a clinical guide or an attempt to explain everything there is to know. Instead, I wanted to explore some of the basics, challenge a few of the myths and, perhaps most importantly, think about what we can all do to create a little more understanding.

ADHD is something we seem to be hearing much more about these days. That can be a positive thing. Greater awareness can help people recognise difficulties they may have struggled with for years and find appropriate support.

But greater awareness can also bring misconceptions. There can be a tendency to reduce ADHD to a few familiar characteristics, or to assume that because we all experience occasional difficulties with concentration, organisation or impulsivity, we all have a little bit of ADHD. The reality is much more complex. So, what actually is ADHD?

ADHD, neurodevelopment and mental health

As someone who has worked in mental health for many years, I think it is worth making a distinction here, not because it is complicated, but because it can easily get blurred. ADHD is a neurodevelopmental condition rather than a mental health condition. It relates to the way the brain develops and processes things such as attention, impulses, activity levels and executive functioning.

That distinction doesn't mean ADHD and mental health are completely separate. Someone can have ADHD and a mental health condition such as anxiety or depression. Living for years with difficulties that aren't understood or supported can have an impact on someone's mental health. Constantly feeling that you are struggling to keep up, wondering why things that seem straightforward for other people take so much effort, or developing ways of coping that leave you exhausted can all take their toll.

ADHD Aware highlights that mental health difficulties commonly occur alongside ADHD, and that ADHD can sometimes be missed when difficulties are viewed only through a mental health lens. This is why I think the distinction is useful rather than simply a matter of terminology.

If we understand ADHD only through a mental health lens, we may focus on the distress without recognising the underlying neurodevelopmental differences. And if we separate the two too completely, we can miss the very real impact that living with unsupported ADHD can have on someone's wellbeing. For me, it is less about putting ADHD into one box and more about understanding the whole person.

It's not just about being hyperactive

When many of us hear ADHD, we still probably picture a child who can't sit still, is constantly talking or seems unable to concentrate in the classroom. That can be part of ADHD, but it is only part of the picture.

ADHD involves differences relating to inattention, hyperactivity and impulsivity, and people experience these in different combinations. The three presentations are generally described as predominantly inattentive, predominantly hyperactive-impulsive, and combined.

For some people, difficulties with attention and organisation may be most noticeable. They might struggle to prioritise, manage competing demands, remember information or move from intending to do something to actually getting started.

For someone else, hyperactivity or impulsivity may be more prominent. This doesn't necessarily mean someone is physically unable to sit still. It can include an internal sense of restlessness, difficulty slowing down, acting or speaking before thinking, or finding it difficult to regulate attention and activity.

And for many people, it is a combination of different experiences. There isn't one “look” to ADHD. This is particularly important when we think about adults who have reached later life without a diagnosis. The difficulties may not have been obvious to other people, particularly if someone has developed sophisticated ways of compensating, masking or organising their life around their challenges.

What about diagnosis?

For some people, receiving an ADHD diagnosis can be a significant moment of understanding. It can bring relief because suddenly some experiences that have been difficult to explain have a framework around them. ADHD UK ambassador Sam Reed, who was diagnosed in 2025, describes the diagnosis as bringing “huge relief” and clarity after years of wondering why some things felt so difficult despite making considerable effort.

For others, diagnosis can bring more complicated feelings. There may be grief about the support that wasn't available earlier, frustration about years spent trying to understand themselves, or simply the need to rethink some of the stories they have carried about themselves.

Another ADHD UK ambassador, Rachel Rowntree, describes the experience of being diagnosed later in life after years of working hard, adapting and overcompensating. She talks about the exhaustion that can sit behind outward success and how diagnosis helped her understand some of her earlier experiences differently.

An ADHD diagnosis isn't made simply because someone recognises a few familiar traits in themselves. A specialist assessment considers a person's history, including childhood, different areas of life and the impact of symptoms. NICE recommends a full clinical and psychosocial assessment and states that diagnosis should not be based solely on rating scales or questionnaires.

This matters because many of us will recognise individual ADHD traits from time to time.

We can all become distracted. We can all forget things, struggle with motivation or put off something we don't want to do. ADHD is about a persistent pattern of difficulties that has its roots in childhood and has a significant impact on a person's life.

Is ADHD lifelong?

ADHD is considered a lifelong neurodevelopmental condition, although the way it presents and affects someone can change over time. The demands of life change. So do people's circumstances, responsibilities and coping strategies.

A child who struggled in a highly structured school environment may grow into an adult who develops effective ways of managing their work. Someone who coped well for many years may find that increasing responsibilities, a change in job, parenthood or other life circumstances make existing strategies much harder to sustain.

And sometimes the things that helped someone cope for years can themselves become exhausting. A more useful question might be: What does this person need now, and what has changed?

Working with your own brain

There isn't one ADHD strategy that works for everyone, and I think this is where some of the advice we see online can become overly simplistic.

“Get organised.”

“Use a planner.”

“Make a to-do list.”

“Set reminders.”

These things can be useful, but they don't necessarily address the reason someone is finding something difficult in the first place.

A person may already have tried dozens of organisational systems. The problem may not be knowing what they need to do; it may be getting started, moving between tasks, estimating how long something will take, holding several steps in mind at once, regulating attention or maintaining focus when something isn't particularly stimulating.

One of the things that can be helpful is to start noticing where the friction actually happens. Perhaps you can focus brilliantly once you get started, but getting started is the difficult part. Perhaps interruptions make it very hard to return to what you were doing. Maybe open-ended tasks feel overwhelming, whereas a clear deadline creates enough urgency to get you moving.

Understanding those patterns can be much more useful than simply telling yourself to try harder. Some people find it helpful to experiment with things such as:

• making the first step very concrete rather than relying on a vague instruction such as “sort the paperwork”

• externalising information through visual reminders, written prompts or calendars rather than relying on memory

• using another person for accountability or shared working when that helps create momentum

• allowing time to transition between different types of tasks

• matching demanding tasks to periods when concentration is easier

• reducing unnecessary decisions around repetitive activities

• noticing what creates momentum — perhaps movement, music, novelty, another person or a clear deadline

• creating systems that are simple enough to return to, rather than complicated systems that become another task to maintain.

  
  

There is also something important about recognising strengths.

Sam Reed talks about creativity, problem-solving and the ability to hyperfocus when fully engaged, alongside the challenges ADHD brings. He describes learning to work with his brain rather than against it.

That doesn't mean romanticising ADHD or suggesting that strengths somehow cancel out difficulties. But a person's ADHD shouldn't be understood only through what they find difficult. The question becomes less, “How do I make myself function like everyone else?” and more, “How can I understand how I work and create conditions in which I can do well?”

And what about the rest of us?

If we know someone with ADHD, we don't necessarily need to become experts.

We can start by being curious. If someone seems to be struggling with something that appears straightforward, rather than immediately interpreting it, we can ask what makes it difficult and what might help.

We can also remember that people with ADHD aren't all the same. What works brilliantly for one person may be distracting or unhelpful for another. Someone may want background noise while another person needs quiet. One person may benefit from flexibility around their working environment, while someone else may find too much flexibility makes it harder to create structure.

Ask, rather than assume. That feels like a useful principle whether we're supporting a family member, friend or colleague.

What can workplaces do differently?

This is where I think the conversation about ADHD becomes particularly relevant to the work I do around wellbeing and inclusive workplaces.

Workplaces can unintentionally create difficulties for people with ADHD because so much of working life depends on things such as prioritising, managing competing demands, switching between tasks, sitting through long meetings, filtering distractions and remembering lots of information.

That doesn't mean people with ADHD can't do these things. It means that the way we structure work can either make them unnecessarily difficult or make them more manageable.

NICE recommends environmental modifications tailored to the individual. These can include changes to seating, lighting and noise, reducing distractions, shorter periods of focus with movement breaks, and reinforcing verbal instructions with written information.

But perhaps the most important word here is individual. One person might need a quieter workspace. Another might find that working from home increases distractions rather than reducing them. One person may need written follow-up after meetings, while another may find a conversation and a clear visual plan more useful.

Practical adjustments might include:

• sending an agenda before a meeting and a short summary afterwards

• being explicit about priorities when everything cannot be done at once

• agreeing what “urgent” actually means rather than relying on assumptions

• allowing flexibility around where and how focused work is completed

• reducing unnecessary meetings and interruptions

• giving reasonable notice of changes wherever possible

• breaking large or ambiguous pieces of work into clearer outcomes

• agreeing regular check-ins that focus on priorities and removing barriers, rather than simply monitoring performance

• considering the physical environment — including noise, lighting and workspace

• asking the individual what helps rather than assuming that a particular adjustment will work.

  
  

And I think there is a wider lesson here. An inclusive workplace shouldn't depend entirely on someone being confident enough to disclose a diagnosis and ask for adjustments.

We can design many aspects of work in ways that are clearer, more flexible and less unnecessarily demanding for everyone.

Clear communication, focused meetings, realistic workloads, flexibility, good line management and a culture where people can talk about what helps them work well aren't ADHD-specific ideas. They are good ways of working.

ADHD UK ambassador Neal Mankey describes telling his employer about his ADHD and being asked what he needed. Together they worked out reasonable adjustments that helped him, including changes to his working environment. His experience is a useful reminder that employers don't necessarily need to have all the answers; they need to be willing to listen and work things out with the person.

I think that is an important shift in the conversation. Inclusion isn't simply about helping someone fit into the existing workplace. Sometimes it is about asking whether the workplace itself could work better.

Looking beyond the label

The more I have learnt about ADHD, the more I think the most useful thing is to become curious about what sits underneath behaviour. Not to assume that ADHD explains every difficulty, but to pause before making an interpretation.

• Someone may need longer to get started but work incredibly quickly once they have momentum.

• Someone may contribute lots of ideas in a meeting but struggle to capture the actions afterwards.

• Someone may appear completely focused on one task while actually finding it extremely difficult to shift their attention to something else.

• Someone may have developed highly effective coping strategies that mean their ADHD isn't immediately obvious — but maintaining those strategies may take a great deal of effort.

• And someone else may have a completely different experience.

  
  

There isn't one “ADHD personality”, just as there isn't one type of person and there isn't one set of adjustments that will work for everyone. Perhaps that is why I keep coming back to the same principle:

Ask, rather than assume. Ask what helps. Ask where the difficulty actually is. Ask what would make something more manageable. And, if you're supporting someone at work, don't assume that because something looks easy from the outside, it necessarily feels easy from the inside.

For me, that feels like a much more useful way of thinking about ADHD than trying to fit people into a checklist of symptoms. It is about understanding difference, recognising the impact that our environments can have, and creating enough flexibility for people to work with the way their brains function rather than constantly having to work against it.

Perhaps that is something worth thinking about for all of us, whether ADHD is part of our own lives or not.