Recently, someone dear to me stated that they think I have ADHD. No one had ever suggested that before. I fully disagreed with them.
I’ve known a lot of people with ADHD over the years. Theater and the arts tend to attract people who are very different from the “norm,” and that includes more neurodivergent folk than many other professions. The same is true of libraries, I think. Most of the women I’ve dated in my life have had ADHD. I’ve never seen much of myself in these people I’ve known. I’ve witnessed many of them struggle to exist in the world, but that’s never been much of a challenge for me.
I have hyperfixation, but that doesn’t constitute a diagnosis of ADHD on its own. I have a long history of not doing things I don’t want to do, but that’s as much my innate contrarianism as anything else.
I recently read this excellent article:
“A Generation Got Told to ‘Just Try Harder.’ The Neuroscience Just Said ‘That Was Never Going to Work.'”
by Ross Grossman, February 4, 2026
At first, it confirmed my conviction that I’m not ADHD: I don’t have significant issues with executive function, I’m good at building reliable routines, and my time perception is just fine, for example. But then I read the sections on “Deadline Panic” and “Chaos Jobs” and holy shit:
These are both 100% me. It’s scary how accurate they are.
I’ve never heard these traits associated with ADHD before. If they are, though, and combined with my hyperfixation and contrarianism… Maybe that someone dear to me is more right than I thought.
So now I need to decide whether I find it helpful to claim the label of ADHD. I honestly don’t know if it does help me. I don’t know that I have a right to claim it, given that I haven’t struggled with it the way I’ve seen others do. I’ve seen diagnosis help many people over the years: having a framework to understand themselves, and to put challenges into proper perspective, can be lifesaving for many. But I haven’t experienced significant challenges navigating a “neurotypical” society, so I haven’t needed a different framework to make sense of myself.
I’ve been convinced of the mismatch hypothesis for years. I don’t believe any form of neurodivergence is inherently “wrong” or problematic. The problem is that we’ve built a society that only allows for one narrow way of being. Many people with neurodivergent traits, including many people dear to me, have spent their lives feeling deeply mismatched to the world. I haven’t felt that way, really.
(Well, OK, that’s not entirely true: I’ve spent my entire life seeking ways to reject toxic masculinity, but that’s not what we’re talking about in this post. Although it’s fascinating how closely issues of identity in gender and neurodivergence parallel each other: both are different ways of being that are excluded by modern society. I may be a bit ADHD but not enough to be burdened with the challenges of it; likewise, I may not be entirely cisgender, but I’m close enough that no one perceives me otherwise, so I have all the privileges of a cis-man with none of the discrimination queer people face. Ergo, I don’t feel I have the right to claim either ADHD or queer labels.)
Several years ago, I read an essay written by an autism advocate and researcher, who argued that it’s too reductive to understand neurodivergence as a spectrum. They suggested it’s more like a buffet: All the different traits associated with neurodivergence are available, and everyone has their own unique combination. Different combinations, with more or fewer traits, in greater or lesser amounts. Everybody’s plate is their own, and no two people are exactly the same.
What I’ve realized is that this isn’t just a buffet of neurodivergence. It’s a buffet of all the different ways the human brain can function. So-called “neurotypical” people eat at it, too. Most people have some amount of neurodivergent traits, even people who seem largely neurotypical. If we go back to the idea of a spectrum, very few people live at the ends of it, most of us are somewhere along the line.
Consider how we understand obsessive-compulsive disorder: Everyone has some amount of obsessive and compulsive behaviors, but it only becomes a disorder when these behaviors negatively impact your ability to function. Neurodivergence only becomes problematic when it’s enough to mismatch people to society.
For myself, most of what I got from the buffet of all possible human neurological functioning consists of what we consider “neurotypical” functions, with a couple ADHD traits on the side, and maybe even a bit of autism (I struggle with eye contact—I find direct eye contact overwhelming sometimes). I’m neurotypical enough that I don’t feel like it’s difficult for me to function in the world. So, for me, a diagnosis of ADHD isn’t something I need. For the person dear to me who just received their diagnosis, and for many other people I’ve known over the years, it’s been a game changer to be able to name how they are.
In the end, my dream is to build a world where all the myriad, diverse ways people can be are valued and respected. Where we recognize the worth everyone brings simply by being who they are.
John the Librarian 