September 2, 2025, 6:20 pm | Read time: 6 minutes
Our author, Catharina Deege, lived with ADHD for 22 years without knowing it. The reason was a compensatory strategy that often leads to late recognition of the disorder, especially in women. Here, she shares her personal journey to an ADHD diagnosis—and how the diagnosis changed her view of herself and her childhood.
ADHD Diagnosis Confirmed My Suspicion
“With great intelligence and creativity, you have managed to live well with ADHD so far,” was said during the video call for my diagnosis. I must add: I originally had to reschedule the appointment because I completely forgot the first one. After the first appointment fell through, the psychiatrist told me, “That’s also typical of your ADHD. You are definitely on the spectrum.”
There it was—the confirmation. I had already suspected it. I constantly compared myself to others. To people who can simply open a book on the train and immediately get lost in it. To people who sit in the office for hours without feeling the urge to get up. Who just stare at the screen—and even seem to be productive. Comparison after comparison, and always the same feeling: low self-esteem. I am lazy. I am chaotic. I am dreamy. I just can’t get it right. These were thoughts that accompanied me for a long, long time.
The ADHD diagnosis didn’t completely silence these thoughts, but it gave them a different direction. Finally, there was an explanation for so much that had burdened and shaped me for a long time. For so many traumatic experiences in my life.
“I’m Not Like My Brother”
The first time I thought about an ADHD diagnosis for myself was at 17. My brother had just received his diagnosis—prompted by a suggestion from his partner. Shortly after, my then-partner said to me, “I think you should get tested too.”
I found it insulting. In my mind, it sounded like: I’m not as dreamy and scatterbrained as my brother. I have good grades, I don’t stand out at school. I’m managing. Back then, I didn’t know that this was a clear sign of masking. And that this masking is unfortunately more common than not among women with ADHD.
Masking Can Be Self-Destructive
Masking means adopting behaviors from neurotypical people to avoid negative attention—to function “correctly” in society. But it comes at a cost: It’s draining. Exhausting. And can even be self-destructive in the long run. This is confirmed by a study published in the Journal BMC Psychiatry in 2020. According to the study, the risk of comorbidities, or additional disorders alongside ADHD, is significantly higher in women.1 Forcing oneself to listen attentively when one internally cannot is immensely exhausting. And that’s how I spent my entire childhood and youth.
The video call with the psychiatrist, where I finally received my diagnosis, took place five years after the first thought of taking an ADHD test. I was 22 years old at the time. In between? The pandemic. During this time, I had set many goals and started a distance learning program alongside my job as an editor. I received thick books and had plenty of time since I was in quarantine. And yet: After one and a half pages, I no longer knew what I had read. My thoughts constantly wandered.
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From ADHD Diagnosis to Self-Acceptance
Again, I thought of the conversation with my ex-partner. Was it just a destroyed attention span from consuming fast-paced media? Or was it really ADHD? The latter turned out to be true. And although the diagnosis didn’t heal everything, it changed something very important: I began to treat myself with more compassion and love. And I also began to get angry.
Because even today, years after the diagnosis, I recall more and more situations where people demanded something from me that I simply couldn’t deliver. Because they expected neurotypical behavior from me, and I couldn’t give it to them. It wasn’t their fault—I didn’t have a diagnosis yet. Still, it saddens me today how many painful moments I could have avoided.
As a little girl, I was reprimanded for not being able to tidy up my room. I preferred playing with Barbies instead. But the mess simply overwhelmed me; I didn’t know where to start with the chaos. And playing with Barbies is just much more stimulating, even for “normal” kids.
Even at school, later at work, the same accusation kept coming up: I was dreamy, did everything at the last minute. I still did very well in school, which is why the question of grades doesn’t really make sense in diagnosing women. I mastered the aforementioned masking (almost) to perfection. However, the price I paid for it, I only understand now.
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Stress at 13? Excuse Me?
I remember a dentist appointment when I was just 13 years old. I was fitted with a night guard because I clenched my teeth at night. When I asked the doctor what I could do about it, he simply said, “Reduce stress.”
Stress? At 13? Looking back, I know: It was the result of masking. A comorbidity of my ADHD. Even then, I felt I had to constantly function beyond my capacities. I came up with creative solutions, worked extremely hard to fit in—in school, in social groups, in the image of a “good, capable” girl. I wanted to get good grades and not stand out. What my dentist called “stress” was actually a constant state of tension. No wonder my jaw was always under pressure. I had hardly any obligations at 13—but internally, I was already completely overwhelmed.
My Challenges Now Have a Name
It didn’t stop at clenching. Later, depressive episodes, difficulties due to chaotic financial management, and problems in friendships and romantic relationships followed. My short attention span and my mental and physical hyperactivity still present many challenges. But at least they now have a name—and I am trying to find a healthy way to deal with them. One that is not marked by exhaustion, but by the opposite: self-love, self-care, forgiveness, motivation, and the desire to better know myself and understand what is good for me. It’s not about fitting into societal norms, but about shaping life to fit oneself as well as possible—whether in work, education, or everyday life. It’s not an easy process. But a necessary one.