Attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder is often misunderstood despite being one of the most common neurodevelopmental disorders, affecting an estimated 8.4% of children and 2.5% of adults. Yet, the stigmas and assumptions made around ADHD remain frustratingly prevalent.
People with ADHD are frequently subjected to ignorant assumptions including the idea that the disorder isn’t real or that it stems from excessive screen time. These misconceptions diminish the challenges we face every day and overlook the resilience required to function in a world that is not built for our brains.
It is persistently present in daily functions, from academic and professional performance to relationships.
ADHD is a chronic and debilitating disorder that affects nearly every aspect of life because it is a disorder in the middle of a person’s world — their brain. According to the National Library of Medicine, ADHD primarily impacts the brain’s frontal cortex, the area responsible for executive functions like attention, planning and impulse control.
The brain alone has control and knowledge of every function of the body, so it makes zero sense that a person would think ADHD stems from phone use.
Lower dopamine levels in people with ADHD can impair focus, motivation and reward processing — making it harder to start tasks and stay organized. Even perceiving the passage of time is difficult. I personally cannot tell the difference between five minutes and 35 minutes if left to my own devices. I measure time by how many songs play on a playlist or how many times my alarm goes off.
Despite these neurological differences, school, work and other aspects of life still expect people living with ADHD to perform like everyone else. We must keep up with school work, job responsibilities and home maintenance and chores. All of this and our brains must be managed despite a disorder that fundamentally alters how we process information and regulate behavior.
When we struggle, our parents label us as lazy; our jobs think we are scatterbrained — not as individuals navigating an invisible disability.
I wasn’t diagnosed with ADHD until college, but the signs had been there for years. Growing up, I often daydreamed and zoned out so much that I couldn’t remember a majority of my class. I struggled to maintain a schedule but also would thrive better once a schedule was established.
It wasn’t until I sought help through Wichita State University’s Counseling and Psychological Services that I began to understand the root of my struggles. My end result — combined-type ADHD — was both validating and overwhelming.
I finally had an explanation for why I found tasks like time management impossible and remembering difficult. But that explanation came with a new burden: learning how to advocate for myself and what works for me in a world that refuses to fully acknowledge my disorder’s severity — or even existence.
The stigma and ignorance surrounding ADHD runs deep. This past Thanksgiving, a family member — a licensed therapist, no less — casually remarked that if kids had their phones taken away for 40 days, their behavior would significantly improve. The implication was clear: ADHD is a product of technology, not a neurological disorder.
Hearing that comment after I had been diagnosed with ADHD for over a year was extremely disheartening, especially from someone in the mental health field. The truth is ADHD predates smartphones. Our brains are wired differently; we’re not broken, not lazy, just different.
Living with ADHD means constantly fighting against both internal and external struggles and judgments. Many of us carry years of criticism, leading to poor self-worth and heightened sensitivity to failure. In light of these obstacles, people with ADHD continue to thrive in countless ways. We are creative problem-solvers, passionate learners and empathetic friends.
Our brains might operate on a different system, but that doesn’t make us less valuable.
Getting diagnosed didn’t magically fix my struggles, but it gave me the tools to better understand and navigate my life. I’ve learned how to work with my brain rather than against it — whether that is leaving home to study, using alarms to stay on track or breaking tasks into smaller, manageable steps.
Every day is still a battle, but each small victory is a testament to the strength it takes to exist in a world that often dismisses our struggles.
