I Thought It Was Just Me: The Quiet Struggle of Women with Undiagnosed ADHD

I was 52 when I found out I had ADHD.

What could have been seen as relief was, instead, felt as defeat. For most of my life, I carried the weight of being too much—too loud, too forgetful, too emotional, too scattered—or sometimes, not enough. I was always chasing a sense of togetherness that felt just out of reach. I thought it was a character flaw. I thought I needed to “try harder.” I thought it was just me.

It wasn’t.

That truth, sometimes, is still hard for me to understand because now I look back on my life—on moments when ADHD showed up—and I see how those signs were brushed aside, mislabeled as “quirks,” “weirdness,” “not all there,” “too spacey,” “wound too tight.”

Like so many women, especially those of us over 40, I grew up in a world that didn’t recognize how ADHD shows up in girls.

We weren’t bouncing off walls. We were daydreaming. Losing things. Zoning out. Feeling everything at 100%. We learned to mask our struggles. To overachieve to cover the chaos. To apologize for things we couldn’t explain.

We learned to blend in—until we burned out.

Living Undiagnosed: The Masking and the Myths 

For decades, I wore the mask well. I earned degrees. Held jobs. Created businesses. Supported others. But under the surface? I was exhausted. Mentally cluttered. Constantly overwhelmed. My to-do lists multiplied like rabbits, but my ability to finish them came and went like the wind. I’d hyperfocus for hours and forget to eat. Then crash for days. I called it ambition. Or anxiety. Or just “the way I am.”

But the truth is, ADHD in women often doesn’t look like the stereotype. We’re not all bouncing with energy—we’re silently drowning. We’re misdiagnosed with depression or anxiety (I was). We’re told we’re lazy, disorganized, emotional. And we believe it, because for years, no one gave us another explanation.

Diagnosis as Liberation

Getting diagnosed wasn’t about putting a label on myself. It was about finally seeing the whole picture of who I am. It was learning that the way my brain works isn’t broken—it’s just wired differently. It was realizing there was a reason for the struggles I’ve faced, the patterns I couldn’t break, the self-criticism that looped in my mind like background noise.

That moment of clarity? It was a soft, sacred undoing of shame.

I cried—not out of fear, but out of recognition. For the first time, I could look back at the life I lived and see it with compassion. I wasn’t lazy. I was trying to function in a world that didn’t understand me. I wasn’t forgetful because I didn’t care—I was managing executive dysfunction and sensory overload every single day.

Living With ADHD at 52

An ADHD diagnosis doesn’t instantly fix things. I still struggle—especially with overwhelm, time blindness, and starting tasks. I often wonder, Where do I go from here? And that question can leave me spiraling with self-doubt. But here’s the thing: I now know why I have these feelings. I now know why I do and think the way I do. And that knowledge changes everything.

I’ve become more intentional about the systems that support me.

Color-coded calendars. Disc-bound planners. Daily rituals that anchor me. I give myself permission to rest. I surround myself with people and resources that get it. I’ve also tapped back into something beautiful: my creativity. ADHD may bring chaos, but it also brings curiosity, imagination, hyperfocus, and intuition.

I’m learning to strip away the desire to be “normal.” And because of that, I’m finally beginning to understand and be the woman I was always meant to be.

Why This Matters for Women Over 40

Midlife isn’t too late—it’s right on time.

Many of us are waking up to truths we never knew we needed.

We’re re-examining our stories. Questioning old narratives. Asking:

What if it wasn’t just me?

What if I was never broken—just misunderstood? 

Getting diagnosed at 52 didn’t erase my struggles, but it did name them, and that name has given me freedom. It’s allowing me to rebuild—not from shame, but from knowledge.

So if you’re a woman over 40 who’s felt out of sync with the world for as long as you can remember—if you’ve called yourself lazy, disorganized, unmotivated, or too sensitive—I want you to know this:

It might not be you. It might be undiagnosed ADHD.

And if it is? That knowledge is not a curse—it’s a compass.

You’re Not Alone

I wrote this not just for myself, but for the countless women quietly struggling behind smiles, productivity, and perfectionism. You’re not imagining it. You’re not failing. You’re not broken.

You’re becoming, and there’s so much beauty in that becoming.

Whether you’re just beginning to explore the idea of ADHD or you’re sitting with a fresh diagnosis like I did, I hope you’ll meet yourself with curiosity and compassion. You’ve survived without answers for a long time. Imagine how much better life can be with the right ones.

If this resonated with you, consider talking to a mental health professional who understands adult ADHD—especially in women. You deserve to understand how your brain works. You deserve to feel whole.