I'm Different

By Cynthia Hammer, MSW, Executive Director, Inattentive ADHD Coalition, www.iadhd.org

I have always felt different — and it was not a good feeling. I did not know exactly how I was different, so I could not change myself to fit the mold. I was not a social misfit, as I had friends and participated in activities, but I rarely felt relaxed or at ease in the company of others.

In junior high, a group of the most popular girls called each other every night to hash over the school day and gossip. My best friend was in this group, and while I was comfortable talking with her, I felt awkward talking on the phone with anyone else. For example, the first and only time I talked on the phone with "Judy" I knew I was expected to speak with her for one hour or more. After a few minutes, I ran out of topics but continued having an awkward and strained conversation for the remaining 50 minutes before hanging up, and sadly concluding, "I'm different. I don't fit in."

In high school, I played on the girls' softball team. I remember standing on third base, yawning and trying to stay awake. It seemed strange to me, as I was not tired. Who yawns while playing a sport? I do, I reasoned because I am different. Now I know I yawned from boredom and struggled to keep myself awake.

Even as an adult, my apparent differences were questioned and observed.

When my five-year-old son injured his finger and came to me for comfort, I responded by putting a bandage on his finger and giving no words of comfort. He asked, "Why are you different from other moms?"

When I took ballroom dance lessons years later, the same son, now a teenager, asked, "Why can't you remember the dance steps?"

Another son asked, "Why were you so mean to that bank teller?" Was I? I answered, "I don't think I said anything wrong."

A neighbor once told me, "You're different." When I worked at a retirement community, a resident said, "You're different." I was keeping count.

Was I sensitive to being told I was "different?" You bet I was!

At the age of 49, I was diagnosed with inattentive ADHD. After being told and believing for many years that I was different, I finally learned why: My ADHD made me different.

I did not want to be different! I felt ashamed and sad. Being different, I believed, meant I was less than others were.

But five years after receiving my diagnosis, those feelings subsided. I came to identify my ADHD strengths — creativity, problem-solving, flexibility, and compassion — and to value my differences.

Yes, I am different. But different does not mean less than. Different means different, like mustard and ketchup or tulips and daffodils.

*This article may be freely copied and distributed.