The Myth of Managing ADHD
How the Goal of "Management" Perpetuates Suffering
"I've done everything right," a client said, her voice trembling. "I've got my color-coded planner, my medication, my mindfulness apps. I'm doing all the things they say will 'fix' my ADHD. So why do I still feel like I'm drowning?"As I listened to her, a brilliant software engineer, I felt a familiar pang of frustration – not with her, but with a system that had convinced her she needed fixing.
For years I've worked with neurodiverse individuals in my therapy practice. I've witnessed countless brilliant minds struggle despite being armed with an arsenal of management techniques promising to "overcome" their ADHD. And I've come to a conclusion: managing ADHD is not the goal.
The Management Myth
I'll admit it: I too was once a doomscroller of ADHD Tok. My algorithm spewed ADHD tips and memes circa 2022. Fresh out of grad school, I dutifully taught my clients all the standard techniques. Break tasks into smaller steps. Use timers. Minimize distractions. Create structure.
Sometimes, these strategies helped – at least temporarily. More often, they led to a cycle of short-term progress followed by crushing disappointment and self-blame. By constantly trying to suppress or work around ADHD traits, we perpetuate society’s message: Your natural way of being —who you are— is wrong. You need to be fixed.
This mindset doesn't just fail; it actively harms. It leads to:
Chronic stress and anxiety from constant self-policing
Internalized shame and a deep sense of inadequacy
Masking behaviors that suppress authentic self-expression
Neglect of unique strengths and talents
A perpetual state of burnout from trying to fit a square peg into a round hole
As I watched client after client struggle – the marketing executive always on the brink of burnout; the gifted student convinced he was "lazy"; the artist who'd given up on her dreams – I began to question everything I thought I knew about ADHD.
My perspective began to shift when I started paying closer attention to my clients' successes rather than their struggles. I noticed patterns that didn't fit the deficit narrative.
There was the startup founder whose "distractibility" allowed played into her to ability to forecast trends before anyone else. There was the creative jazz musician who’s impulsivity benefitted his improvisation. And there the scientist whose hyperfocus enabled her to make discoveries in her biochemistry lab. Writing this now you’d think I was working with the X Men or something.
The more I dug into research, the more I became convinced: ADHD isn't a disorder. It's a different cognitive style, optimized for a different environment than our modern, nuerotypical-optimized society.
Instead of trying to install neurotypical software patches, I began helping my clients optimize their native operating systems.
For an animation student, this meant redesigning his work processes to align with his natural cognitive style. We created a flexible schedule that allowed for periods of hyperfocus. We identified his peak creative hours and protected them for deep work. We embraced procrastination rather than working to thwart it. Most importantly, we worked on self-acceptance and self-advocacy.
The results were transformative. "For the first time," he told me six months later, "I feel like I'm working with my brain instead of against it."
This approach focuses on:
Self-understanding: Deep-diving into how one's unique ADHD brain works
Strength-based strategies: Identifying and leveraging natural talents
Environmental design: Creating spaces and routines that work with ADHD, not against it
Community connection: Fostering relationships with other neurodiverse individuals
Self-advocacy: Educating others and reshaping environments to support neurodiversity
Shifting to this strength-based approach has allowed my clients flourish in ways that defy the traditional ADHD narrative.
It's time to ask ourselves: what if there is nothing to “fix?”
