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Other days, I stare at my to-do list like it personally betrayed me and then spiral because I forgot to answer an email from 4 days ago and now I’m convinced everyone hates me.
Welcome to the magical clusterfuck of living with ADHD and anxiety—the mental equivalent of a glitter bomb and a fire drill happening at the same time.
It’s not that we don’t care.
It’s that we care so much it fries our brains.
We want to do all the things, perfectly, immediately … but we forget, get overwhelmed, or freeze because our brains have too many browser tabs open, and one of them is playing music we can’t find.
What helps? Not fixing yourself.
Because spoiler: you were never broken.
You were just never taught how to work with a brain like yours.
So here’s your permission slip:
You can take breaks without guilt.
You can use sticky notes, alarms, and chaos rituals to get through the day.
You can laugh at the mess and still love yourself.
Healing doesn’t mean becoming someone else.
It means learning to hold space for the badass, forgetful, anxious, sparkly goblin that you are. And showing up for her with compassion—especially on the days she feels like a disaster.
On a creaky porch beside a quiet river. Wrapped in the scent of pine and coffee. My phone’s nowhere in sight, and the only sound is pages turning and the occasional bird judging me for crying over fictional characters again.
The world slows down in places like this. It breathes softer. And so do I.
This is my fantasy: a good book, a hot mug, and a quiet escape from the chaos. No expectations, no deadlines, just stories and stillness.
Because sometimes healing looks like hiding.
And sometimes rest looks like reading.
What does rest look like to you? Where are you mentally today?
I came. I saw. I forgot what I was doing and cried in my car.
If you’re a woman who’s ever put your phone down mid-text and never found it again (until it rang from inside the fridge) welcome. You might have ADHD. Or what I like to call: Hot Mess Brain with Bonus Features.
We’re not talking about the bouncing-off-the-walls kid stereotype. No, no. Female ADHD is the ✨limited edition✨ adult version, complete with:
Olympic-level procrastination, 3,000 unfinished projects, emotional breakdowns because your sock feels weird, and a deep, soul-crushing shame spiral because someone asked you to “just make a list.”
ADHD in Women: The Sneaky Ninja Edition
When we were little, people didn’t notice. We weren’t “bad.” We were weirdly talkative, always doodling, and somehow acing tests but still losing our backpack inside of our own house.
Instead of getting diagnosed, we got called:
“So creative!”
“Such a chatterbox!”
“A little dramatic, don’t you think?”
Spoiler alert: We weren’t dramatic. We were literally having a full-blown executive function meltdown because we had three assignments, zero clue where our planner went, and the overwhelming urge to alphabetize our nail polish instead of doing any of it.
Adulthood Hit Different
Fast forward to adulthood, and now you’re:
Crying over a dirty dish. Forgetting your kid’s field trip form (again). Hyperfocusing on a new hobby you’ll abandon in six days. Paralyzed by an email that’s been sitting in drafts since the Bush administration.
And everyone around you is like, “Just be more organized!”
Girl. I tried to be organized. I bought six planners. I even color-coded them. You know where they are? Under my bed. Next to the dumbbells I swore I’d use during my “fitness era.”
You’re Not Lazy, Your Brain Just Thinks It’s in a DJ Booth
ADHD brains love dopamine. We crave stimulation. That’s why we can’t clean our room … unless we trick ourselves into a 12-hour cleaning montage with music, snacks, and existential dread.
Our emotions? Turned up to 11. We cry at dog videos, spiral after one passive-aggressive text, and feel personally attacked by to-do lists.
We also love:
Interrupting people (sorry, I just had a THOUGHT and I must SHARE IT), re-reading the same sentence 8 times and still not knowing what it said, starting a new life plan at 2:34 a.m. and forgetting it by morning.
Coping Mechanisms? I’ve Got Memes and Magic
Here’s how I survive:
Use timers like I’m defusing a bomb. Pretend I’m on a reality show called “Will She Remember to Eat?” Surround myself with people who don’t judge me for sending 12 chaotic texts in a row because I forgot what I was saying halfway through. Forgive myself when my brain does That Thing™ again.
Final Thoughts (Before I Forget Them)
ADHD in women is real. It’s messy. It’s misunderstood. And it’s often missed for YEARS.
But here’s the deal: You’re not broken. You’re brilliant, hilarious, compassionate, and operating on a whole different frequency.
One minute you’re crying in the grocery store, the next you’re writing a novel in one sitting. That’s not a flaw—it’s your sparkle.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go finish that thing I started six days ago … or start something new entirely. Who knows? ADHD is an adventure.
Sometimes we’re glowing goddesses who drink green juice and journal.
Other times we’re doom-scrolling with one eye twitching and a to-do list screaming in the background.
If you’ve ever felt like you’re too much and not enough at the same time, welcome home.
You Were Never Broken isn’t just a book, it’s a deep breath, a pep talk, and a permission slip to stop apologizing for being human.
Written for the women who are tired of pretending they’ve got it all together (spoiler alert: none of us do), this book is part spiritual hug, part sarcastic rant, and part “holy crap, I needed to hear that.”
What’s Inside:
• Raw, relatable take on depression, anxiety, and ADHD
• Zero fluff, no toxic positivity—just honest tools for healing
• Empowering messages for the days when you feel like a chaotic gremlin
• A reminder that being sensitive, emotional, loud, or weird isn’t broken … it’s f*cking magical
Whether you’re mid-breakdown, mid-breakthrough, or somewhere in between, this book holds space for every version of you.
Who It’s For:
• The overthinkers
• The highly sensitive and slightly unhinged
• The women who light candles and cuss people out in traffic
• The exhausted empaths who still want to believe in magic
This is not a self-help book that tells you to “just think positive.”
It’s a mirror held up to your soul that says: Look. You made it this far. That’s not weakness, that’s power.
Final Word:
You don’t need fixing.
You don’t need to be quieter, smaller, easier to handle.
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