My ADHD Made Me Believe, “I’m Different” and It Wasn’t Okay.

by Cynthia Hammer, MSW

I’ve always felt different — and it wasn’t a good feeling. I didn’t know exactly how I was different, so I couldn’t change myself to fit the mold. I wasn’t 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 talk to her for one hour or more. I ran out of topics after a few minutes but continued having an awkward and strained conversation for the remaining 50 minutes before hanging up, and sadly concluded, “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 yawning, trying to stay awake.  It seemed strange to me as I wasn’t tired.  Who yawns while playing a sport? I do, I reasoned, because I am different.  Now I know I yawned from boredom and was struggling 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, then 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 didn’t want to be different! I felt ashamed and sad. Being different, I believed, meant I was less than others.

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 doesn’t mean less than. Different just means different, like mustard and ketchup, or tulips and daffodils.