Discovering that I have ADHD was like suddenly getting a missing piece of a puzzle I had been trying to solve my whole life. It wasn’t just a label—it was an explanation for so many things I had struggled with. Looking back, I sometimes wish the people around me had asked, “Why do you behave this way?” instead of assuming I was careless, forgetful, or impulsive. But time doesn’t rewind, and I have learned to move forward, to advocate for myself, and to appreciate who I am, including all the behaviors that come with ADHD.

As I reflect on my past, I see patterns I never fully understood before. I miscommunicated often, missing important details when people spoke to me or asked for something. It wasn’t because I didn’t care—I just wasn’t fully present in the moment, my mind always jumping ahead to the next thought. I forgot important dates, deadlines, and tasks, no matter how much I wanted to remember them. I would sometimes disappoint people because I acted impulsively—doing something ahead of time instead of waiting for the right moment or missing the mark completely because I didn’t process instructions correctly.

And then, there’s the hardest part—the question that lingers in my mind: Is it part of lies or fibbers? Was my ADHD the reason why people thought I was dishonest? When I forgot things, was I perceived as making excuses? When I miscommunicated, did people think I was intentionally misleading them? When I acted impulsively, did it come across as manipulative instead of an unfiltered reaction? These thoughts haunt me because I never wanted to deceive anyone—I just didn’t have the right words, the right focus, or the right timing.

At first, realizing that these struggles were part of ADHD brought a mix of emotions—relief, frustration, and even grief for all the times I felt misunderstood. But rather than dwell on what I can’t change, I am learning to appreciate my ADHD as part of who I am and to work with it instead of against it.

A few months ago, I was prescribed ADHD medication, and the difference has been remarkable. For the first time, I felt like I could hold onto my thoughts long enough to follow through with them. Tasks that once felt overwhelming became manageable, and I could finish what I started without my mind wandering elsewhere. Conversations became clearer—I could focus on what people were saying and respond in ways that made them feel heard. I wasn’t just present; I was engaged.

This journey isn’t about fixing myself—because I was never broken. It’s about understanding myself better, learning strategies that help me thrive, and embracing the strengths that come with ADHD. I now advocate for myself in ways I never did before, explaining my needs instead of feeling ashamed of them. I appreciate the way my mind works—how it can be creative, spontaneous, and deeply passionate.

I may not be able to rewrite my past, but I can shape my future. And moving forward, I choose to own my ADHD, to celebrate my progress, and to give myself the grace I always deserved. I am not a liar. I am not a fraud. I am someone whose brain works differently, and that’s okay.