Danielle Elliott

This series was brought to you by Understood.org, a nonprofit organization dedicated to empowering people with learning and thinking differences, like ADHD and dyslexia. From understood.org, our executive directors are Laura Key, Scott Cochier, and Seth Melnick. A very special thanks to Ray Jacobson, Julie Zietz, Jordan Davidson, Sarah Greenberg, and Kathleen Nadeau.

This series was brought to you by Understood.org, a nonprofit organization dedicated to empowering people with learning and thinking differences, like ADHD and dyslexia. From understood.org, our executive directors are Laura Key, Scott Cochier, and Seth Melnick. A very special thanks to Ray Jacobson, Julie Zietz, Jordan Davidson, Sarah Greenberg, and Kathleen Nadeau.

If you want to help Understood continue this work, consider making a donation at understood.org.

If you want to help Understood continue this work, consider making a donation at understood.org.

That's me, giving the maid of honor toast at my sister's wedding. And my mom, laughing as she records on her phone. It's May 2022, about four months after I was diagnosed with ADHD. I'd love to say the diagnosis helped me get my life in order, but that would be a lie. Instead, it sent me down the rabbit hole of ADHD social media, learning all the ways the disorder has likely impacted my life.

That's me, giving the maid of honor toast at my sister's wedding. And my mom, laughing as she records on her phone. It's May 2022, about four months after I was diagnosed with ADHD. I'd love to say the diagnosis helped me get my life in order, but that would be a lie. Instead, it sent me down the rabbit hole of ADHD social media, learning all the ways the disorder has likely impacted my life.

It all got overwhelming at a time when I was already overwhelmed. I didn't have an apartment, a partner, or a job. There was nothing grounding me in New York. So I left. I went to South America, told myself I could do whatever I wanted until the wedding, and after that, I'd fly back to New York and figure things out.

It all got overwhelming at a time when I was already overwhelmed. I didn't have an apartment, a partner, or a job. There was nothing grounding me in New York. So I left. I went to South America, told myself I could do whatever I wanted until the wedding, and after that, I'd fly back to New York and figure things out.

Three weeks before the wedding, I flew into Dallas and spent the weekend with my sister. I bought a dress off a department store sale rack. Then I flew to Nicaragua to learn to surf. I know it sounds erratic, maybe like a 37-year-old refusing to grow up, but my choices made sense to me, kind of. I mean, if you need dopamine, learn to surf. Then came the wedding.

Three weeks before the wedding, I flew into Dallas and spent the weekend with my sister. I bought a dress off a department store sale rack. Then I flew to Nicaragua to learn to surf. I know it sounds erratic, maybe like a 37-year-old refusing to grow up, but my choices made sense to me, kind of. I mean, if you need dopamine, learn to surf. Then came the wedding.

I had to leave the welcome party early to pick up the dress from the tailors. I almost forgot, then got lost and missed most of the dinner. A little voice in my head kept telling me I'm an idiot, that I can never get anything right, and I never will because I have ADHD. The wedding would be my first time seeing extended family in more than two years because of the pandemic.

I had to leave the welcome party early to pick up the dress from the tailors. I almost forgot, then got lost and missed most of the dinner. A little voice in my head kept telling me I'm an idiot, that I can never get anything right, and I never will because I have ADHD. The wedding would be my first time seeing extended family in more than two years because of the pandemic.

I dreaded the questions about what I'm doing with my life. I figured I'd get ahead of it by standing up in front of a room full of people and starting the toast with the self-deprecating joke I'd written. I asked my cousins to laugh on cue, just in case the joke didn't land. I scribbled notes and rewrites up until the moment the DJ called me to the front of the room.

I dreaded the questions about what I'm doing with my life. I figured I'd get ahead of it by standing up in front of a room full of people and starting the toast with the self-deprecating joke I'd written. I asked my cousins to laugh on cue, just in case the joke didn't land. I scribbled notes and rewrites up until the moment the DJ called me to the front of the room.

And as he handed me the microphone and I looked at everyone staring back at me, something unexpected happened. For the first time since being diagnosed, I felt grateful for the way my brain works.

And as he handed me the microphone and I looked at everyone staring back at me, something unexpected happened. For the first time since being diagnosed, I felt grateful for the way my brain works.

I thought, if ADHD is the reason I don't have this kind of classic life, it's probably also the reason I still love last-minute travel and like challenging the ways we're supposed to do things, and why I have a career in three fields, not one. Insatiable curiosity makes my life possible. All of this raced through my head, and then I started my speech.

I thought, if ADHD is the reason I don't have this kind of classic life, it's probably also the reason I still love last-minute travel and like challenging the ways we're supposed to do things, and why I have a career in three fields, not one. Insatiable curiosity makes my life possible. All of this raced through my head, and then I started my speech.

I don't think I could have handled that laughter an hour earlier. I was in such a dark place. And then I wasn't. The speech became a turning point. I stopped resenting my ADHD and started appreciating it. I think it's made my life a lot more interesting. I'd love to claim this is an original thought, but it turns out a lot of people were starting to feel the same way.

I don't think I could have handled that laughter an hour earlier. I was in such a dark place. And then I wasn't. The speech became a turning point. I stopped resenting my ADHD and started appreciating it. I think it's made my life a lot more interesting. I'd love to claim this is an original thought, but it turns out a lot of people were starting to feel the same way.