Spoiler Alert: I’m Not ‘Too Much,’ I Just Have ADHD
Introduction
For years, I struggled with certain patterns in my life that I couldn’t fully explain. There was an impulsive streak in my decisions, challenges with focus, and an underlying feeling of being “different” that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Recently, though, I received an answer that has reshaped my perspective: ADHD.
This diagnosis didn’t come out of the blue. It’s the result of a series of realisations over the last few years, incremental steps that gradually brought me closer to understanding what was going on in my mind. Looking back, there were pivotal experiences and changes that led me to seek answers and recognise that my mind operates a bit differently. Some of these realisations came from times when I felt particularly vulnerable or introspective, moments that shed light on behaviours I’d always taken for granted. While the journey wasn’t always easy, each step brought me closer to clarity.
The Path to Diagnosis
I didn’t arrive at this diagnosis overnight. For most of my life, I assumed certain quirks were just part of my personality or things I needed to “get under control.” I’d notice myself struggling to concentrate unless there was intense pressure, feeling strong emotional reactions to situations others shrugged off, and seeking new experiences, which at times felt almost compulsive.
The Hobby Hyper-Fixation Cycle
One of the first clues was a pattern I’d seen in my hobbies. I tend to dive deeply into new interests with an intense level of commitment, almost obsessively. When I pick up a hobby, I go all-in, often spending significant amounts on equipment, books, training, or anything else that might enhance the experience. For a while, I thought this was just part of my personality—getting fully equipped and prepared felt like a way to ensure I’d enjoy the activity to the fullest.
But after a few months, I’d usually lose interest and move on to something else, leaving behind a collection of barely used gear and materials. My most recent hobby has been Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, which, unlike some past interests, I’ve managed to stick with for a bit longer. But looking back, this cycle of hyper-fixation followed by a sudden drop in interest became another nudge that something deeper was driving these patterns.
Too Much for Maurits
Then came my experience with Maurits, someone I was dating. I have a bit of an “all-or-nothing” approach to things: if I’m going to do something, I want to do it well. This applies to dating too—I’d plan grand gestures, thoughtful dates, and special moments, expecting things to turn out beautifully. But when reality didn’t meet my high expectations, I’d end up feeling disappointed, and my reactions seemed to make Maurits feel like he wasn’t enough.
At one point, he told me I was “too much” for him, that my intensity and expectations felt overwhelming and created pressure. To him, these plans and expectations felt excessive, but to me, they felt normal. I wasn’t putting on a show or trying to be extravagant; I was just being myself, wanting us to enjoy the best experiences together. Yet, again, I found myself at odds with how I saw things and how someone else perceived me. This experience with Maurits was another wake-up call, highlighting the disconnect between my intentions and how they were received. It left me questioning whether there was something deeper behind my “all-or-nothing” mindset and intense approach to relationships.
Friends Who Felt They Were "Taking Care" Of Me
A similar experience happened with a close group of friends. I thought I was just being myself, feeling fully independent and comfortable with them. But one day, one of these friends told me that people in our circle felt overwhelmed by me, and some were putting distance between us. He explained that they felt like they were “taking care of me,” expending energy on my behalf. To me, I’d been nothing but independent and comfortable. Yes, I wasn’t perfect and could be intense, but I hadn’t realised others felt they were supporting me in a way that was taxing for them. This disconnect between my version of myself and theirs set me on a path of questioning. It nudged me to consider that something deeper might be affecting how I show up socially.
The ADE Encounter
Another turning point happened during Amsterdam Dance Event (ADE), which I mentioned in a previous post. A friend I’d invited to a party couldn’t make it because he was sick, so he suggested I meet up with his friend, who was visiting. I hadn’t planned on meeting him, but something about this chance encounter felt almost fated, like the universe had a reason for placing him in my path.
We met at Club Raum, and somehow the conversation shifted to neurodiversity, ADHD, and what it’s like to experience the world differently. He shared insights on ADHD symptoms and traits, talking about how the condition affects emotional intensity, impulsivity, and focus. As he described his experience, I found myself identifying with much of what he was saying. He shared that neurodivergent people often have unique ways of regulating themselves, and for many, certain things can help them feel more balanced.
Listening to him, I realised I’d been experiencing many of these patterns without ever questioning them. What struck me even more was a connection I’d noticed with others like him—many of the people I click with instantly tend to have some level of neurodivergence themselves, whether it’s ADHD, autism, or something else. It’s as though there’s a sense of understanding between us, and meeting him reinforced that sense.
The Hyper-Focus Epiphany
One more moment stands out just before I got my diagnosis. About two weeks before my assessment, I went out with a friend on one of those Halloween nights. We were sitting in Blend XL on Reguliersdwarsstraat, Amsterdam’s famous gay street, just chatting and catching up. During our conversation, I got completely wrapped up in noticing how one of the prominent restaurants nearby had changed. It used to be a Vegan Junk Food place, which I’d visited many times, but it had now transformed into a chicken restaurant. The whole facade had changed from bright pink to yellow, and I remember talking about it for a solid three to five minutes, hyper-fixated on every detail.
After I finally stopped talking, my friend asked if I’d noticed the people next to us getting arrested. I was completely caught off guard—I hadn’t seen a thing. I was so focused on the restaurant that I missed something major happening right beside me. Then he looked at me and asked, “Do you have ADHD?” I told him I actually had an appointment coming up to check. That moment felt like yet another nudge from the universe, pointing me further toward the path I was already on.
Insights from My ADHD Report: Seeing Myself in a New Light
The assessment didn’t just provide a label; it gave me insights into why I am the way I am. Here are a few of the key takeaways from my diagnosis, and how they’ve helped me begin to understand myself with more clarity and compassion.
Difficulty with Focus in Non-Urgent Situations
- One of my long-standing challenges has been sustaining focus on tasks that don’t feel immediately urgent. Without a looming deadline, I’d find my attention slipping away entirely, no matter how hard I tried to concentrate.
- What I’m Learning: ADHD makes it hard to sustain focus when tasks lack a sense of urgency or novelty. Rather than feeling frustrated, I’m learning ways to create a bit of urgency for myself—whether it’s through setting smaller goals or creating structure in ways that engage my attention.
Impulsivity and Life-Changing Decisions
- My impulsive nature has led to significant, sometimes sudden, life changes. Moving to a new place, pursuing a new career direction, or diving into relationships quickly felt exhilarating at the time but often carried unexpected challenges.
- What I’m Learning: ADHD can create a drive toward impulsivity and novelty-seeking. This insight has helped me see that my decisions weren’t simply rash; they were influenced by my brain’s need for engagement. Now, I try to give myself time to reflect on big decisions, asking if they align with my long-term values as well as my immediate excitement.
Struggles with Maintaining Long-Term Connections
- I’ve always loved meeting new people, but I often find myself losing interest in relationships over time. This pattern left me questioning why maintaining connections sometimes felt so challenging, despite my social nature.
- What I’m Learning: ADHD can create a craving for novelty, even in relationships. This has made me more aware of how I interact with others, helping me find balance by nurturing consistency and communication in my friendships, even when my mind seeks newness.
Sensitivity to Rejection and Emotional Reactions
- I’ve always been sensitive to perceived rejection or criticism, sometimes reacting more strongly than the situation seemed to warrant. Small comments or social cues could trigger self-doubt, leaving me questioning if others truly understood me.
- What I’m Learning: This sensitivity, known as Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria (RSD), is common in ADHD. Knowing that this is part of my experience helps me validate my feelings without letting them define me. I’m learning to recognise when my reactions are intensified by RSD and to focus on self-acceptance rather than seeking external validation.
Distractibility and Environmental Awareness
- During my assessment, the clinician noted how easily I became distracted by small things—my phone vibrating, a sound outside, a bird passing by. This kind of attentiveness to my surroundings has always felt natural, but it’s something I once criticised myself for.
- What I’m Learning: My brain is wired to notice stimuli around me, even when it’s not helpful. Instead of seeing this as a flaw, I’m finding ways to ground myself, whether through simple reminders or deep breathing techniques. This shift in perspective helps me manage my distractibility without self-judgment.
Unmasking and Embracing My Authentic Self
With ADHD, I spent years adapting my behaviours, masking parts of myself to fit in with social and professional expectations. Now, I’m beginning the process of unmasking—allowing myself to live authentically while learning to work with my ADHD rather than against it.
Unmasking doesn’t mean being impulsive or disregarding others’ expectations. For me, it’s about understanding where my ADHD traits naturally show up and finding ways to honour them in a healthy, balanced way. Rather than seeing my impulsivity or distractibility as weaknesses, I’m learning to recognise their strengths and to build habits that make space for them.
Looking Forward: Self-Acceptance and Growth
This diagnosis has given me a new way to relate to myself. Instead of feeling trapped by my challenges, I’m learning to meet them with understanding. ADHD is a part of who I am—a part that brings creativity, intensity, and resilience. Moving forward, I’m giving myself permission to unmask gradually, to let go of unrealistic expectations, and to embrace the authentic, ADHD-informed version of me.
As I reflect on ADHD, I also can’t help but wonder if it runs in my family. I see traits in my mom and my sister that make me think ADHD might be part of our shared experience. Understanding this as a genetic condition makes me see myself as part of a lineage of people who navigate the world a bit differently.
Embracing the Strengths ADHD Brings
It’s not all hard, either. ADHD has its own strengths, and I can see that some of my best qualities come from it. For one, I have this ability to connect with people deeply and quickly. Maybe it’s the impulsivity that lowers my social filters or the way I dive right in with curiosity, but I tend to ask questions that bring people closer. It lets me skip the small talk and get to the heart of what matters with others, which I’ve come to appreciate.
This impulsivity has also shaped who I am today. It’s driven me to seize opportunities others might pass up. I don’t know if it’s “me” or the ADHD, but I think this impulsivity has pushed me to take risks that have led to significant growth and unexpected changes in my life. When I see an opportunity, I’m inclined to act on it rather than hesitate, and sometimes those actions have made a huge difference in my life.
Of course, there are tough days, too. Sometimes I wake up and can’t quite find the energy to be productive, and that’s part of ADHD as well. But the same traits that challenge me are the ones that bring life’s unexpected joys. ADHD might complicate things, but it’s also led me to live in a way that feels authentic, intense, and open to the possibilities around me.
For anyone who feels like they might be on a similar path, remember that unmasking is a process. Each step brings us closer to living as our true selves. ADHD doesn’t define us, but understanding it can help us embrace our uniqueness and connect more deeply with who we are.

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