How I Unintentionally Lied to Everyone (Including Myself) About My ADHD

Real talk about masking — or how ADHDers fight to fit in

My life was fake until the age of 22.

Ever since I can remember, I’ve had this feeling that something was off about me. From the constant criticism I got for being too loud and too sensitive, to the overwhelming doom that my friends weren’t really genuine, I always struggled with knowing myself.

I discovered I have ADHD when I was 22. Until then, I’d lived behind countless masks, one less real than the other. I used to say that I didn’t have a personality all throughout middle school, without realising this is called masking, and it’s what ADHDers and other neurodivergent people do to fit in.

The Attention Deficit Disorder Association defines masking like so:

Masking is when a person with ADHD acts in a “socially acceptable” way to fit in and form better connections with those around them. This usually involves camouflaging their symptoms by controlling their impulses, rehearsing responses, and copying the behaviors of those who don’t have ADHD.

This looks different for every person, depending on their circumstances, but I’d like to expand on how it’s been for me, as an undiagnosed and unmedicated ADHDer, who only discovered her true self as an adult.

Buckle up, then, to find out how I’ve lied to everyone, including myself, about my ADHD and my reality. Unintentionally, of course.

1. Changing friends like socks

My biggest challenge growing up was keeping people around. That’s pretty sad for a little child, right? I remember my best friends in primary school repeatedly ghosting me, for no apparent reason, and I being desperately sad and asking them to be friends again every single time they ditched me.

I remember trying everything: pretending to like what they liked, pretending to watch the shows they watched, or read the books they enjoyed. Nothing I did was ever enough, and I constantly had this fear that I would be left behind again. Which happened over and over.

Until I met my current best friend when I was 15, I changed friend groups and so-called ‘best friends’ constantly. If I befriended the unpopular children, my popular friends threatened to ditch me. If I befriended the children with lower grades than mine, my smart friends mocked me. Yet the popular and smart kids only kept me around for convenience. I was loyal, helpful, and never called them out.

My current best friend was the first person who accepted me. And even though that took time, she never left my side, no matter how terrified I was that she would. We grew together, as people. We learned to lean on each other and finally be ourselves.

When I broke it to her that I want to seek a diagnosis for my ADHD, what do you know, she stayed put. She’s the reason I stopped searching for people who liked me. And so is, since he came along 6 years ago, my partner. I don’t need anyone else if I’ve got them.

But I have also, since then, met people who are open-minded and understanding of my ADHD, or people who are also neurodivergent, who I get along with a lot better and without a shred of effort.

2. Appearing completely fine

Masking is an exhausting feat, which leads to poor mental health and hopelessness. The vicious cycle of ADHD and masking is that, on top of the struggles ADHD already comes with, you get the burnout of the masking, and the confusion that makes you question who you really are.

Some medically recognised consequences of masking include:

• low self-esteem and perfectionism
• burnout
• depression and anxiety

All of which I’ve struggled with, and am still struggling with at present. But, as masking goes, of course I always put on a strong front to those who don’t know about my ADHD. This includes my family, who I will inform once my diagnosis is confirmed. And while I’m working on being more honest and open about my mental health around my family, this hasn’t always been the case.

Quite the opposite. As a teen, I struggled with severe anxiety, depression, and insomnia, none of which anyone ever knew about. Even my best friend was oblivious to just how deep my depression ran, because I always appeared smiling, in a good mood, and my general ‘positive’ self.

Of course anxiety, depression, and insomnia don’t just come with ADHD, but because everyone already saw me as overly sensitive (due to my RSD — rejection sensitive dysphoria, and my emotional dysregulation), I preferred to keep quiet about my struggles and pretend to be ok.

3. Rehearsing conversation

I’ve always been a chaotic conversationalist, because my brain is all over the place. This led to mockery and judgement from my peers growing up, which made me strive to fit in and try to talk ‘like everyone else’.

My social skills are pretty poor — something I’m only becoming aware of now, in my 20s, as I explore and work on myself, who I am, and how I function. I get distracted easily in conversation, and forget to show interest in other people’s side of the story, or move the topic along.

But what I struggle the most with is regular, common interactions, like saying hello, asking how someone is, that type of thing. So, all my life, without realising what I was doing, I’ve been rehearsing bits of conversation that would get me out of awkward situations.

Things like common phrases, generic reactions, or, when I know I’ll be talking about a specific topic with someone, I always like to go through what I want to say out loud and organise my thoughts. This takes a lot of time and effort, and I often feel like a fraud when I speak, knowing it’s all rehearsed.

But this practice has ensured that I can go about my daily life without feeling overwhelmed or judged. There shouldn’t be a need for this, but that’s the reality of it right now.

There are many other sides to masking, like supressing my reactions, which are often over the top, or being completely silent when I feel out of my depth in a situation. Avoiding certain situations is also common practice for me, or coming up with excuses when something bothers me that wouldn’t usually bother a neurotypical person.

I’ve been unmasking around people I trust who know about my ADHD and it’s deeply liberating. But the reality of living with ADHD, or any other condition that doesn’t match neurotypical standards, is that masking is an inherent part of our daily life and there will always be a need for it.

The most important thing is not to lose ourselves in the process. Being true to yourself and owning who you are is more important than a few raised eyebrows.

Eliza Lita is a freelance writer based in the UK. She covers books and reading, ADHD and health, fitness, and lifestyle. For more of her stories, please consider signing up for a Medium membership through her referral link.

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