ADHD isn’t a disease. It’s a difference. And difference doesn’t need fixing—it needs understanding, support, and space.
If you’ve ever been told to tone it down, hold it in, or “just be normal,” you know the weight of trying to exist in a world that’s allergic to difference.
And if you’re living with ADHD, you know that weight gets heavier when systems—especially the ones with power—start calling you a problem to fix.
I’ve been feeling that heaviness more and more lately.
Trying to live fully in your truth while also constantly calculating how much space is “safe” to take up? That’s a painful balancing act. One that many of us never signed up for but have become experts at anyway.
Because when you're neurodivergent—especially ADHD in a world obsessed with productivity and sameness—you're constantly navigating two worlds: the one inside you, and the one that keeps asking you to be someone else.
Recently, I read about an executive order that lumped ADHD and autism into a category of chronic disease under the guise of mental health reform. It hit me like a gut punch. Not because we haven’t seen this kind of language before, but because it keeps happening.
This framing tells the world that our brains are faulty. That who we are is a risk to be managed. That we must be fixed.
It’s not just bad policy. It’s a message.
And that message is: You are not okay as you are.
But we are.
“ADHD isn’t a disease. It’s a difference. And difference doesn’t need fixing—it needs understanding, support, and space.”
I did all the things.
I masked. I pushed. I became who I thought people wanted me to be.
And yes, I got praised for it. I looked like I had it together.
But inside? I was disappearing.
I spent years being exhausted and emotionally disconnected, thinking maybe this is just what life feels like. But it’s not. That was the feeling of abandoning myself just to make others more comfortable.
Healing began when I stopped apologizing for the way my brain works.
When I realized the problem wasn’t me—it was the box I was trying to squeeze into.
When governments label people like us as “ill,” they give themselves permission to ignore us, pathologize us, or erase our autonomy. These labels impact policy, funding, access, healthcare, education, and visibility.
But even more than that, they affect how we see ourselves.
We are not sick.
We are not disordered.
We are not dangerous or defective.
We are powerful. Creative. Whole.
And deeply necessary in a world that desperately needs new ways of thinking, feeling, and being.
“You don’t need to be less of yourself to be more accepted. You just need space to be fully you.”
Choosing to unmask, to slow down, to say no, to speak up, to take a nap, to stim in public, to set boundaries, to live at your own pace — that is radical. That is protest. That is medicine.
Every time you stop trying to fix yourself and instead honor who you are, you’re shifting something.
And that matters.
This isn’t just about survival. It’s about reclaiming your place in a world that tried to tell you you don’t belong.
You do.
If you’re feeling angry, frustrated, or fired up — good. That means you care. That means you’re still connected to your sense of rightness. And there’s power in that.
Want to speak up? Start small:
Call or email your local representative.
Share your story.
Let people know how these policies are impacting real lives.
You can find your rep through Contacting Congress or GovTrack. Your voice matters — not just as resistance, but as truth.
Let’s stop asking for permission to exist.
Let’s start living like we deserve to take up space — because we do.
Categories: : RESTORE → Self-Worth & Identity, ROOT → Collective Healing