Welcome to The Haven…
…a place for quiet, empathetic, sensitive, introverted late-(self)diagnosed ADHD women to find self-acceptance and understanding, as well as calm and joyful freedom to be their unique, beautiful selves.
Here we are in June.
May was a lot. I was only home one weekend and we had family visiting then.
The end of my Master’s degree in Applied Positive Psychology is finally in sight as I have submitted the final assignment for the second year. I’ve a couple of months left to finish the dissertation and a lot of work to do for it (gulp).
One of the weekends away was spent at The Big Retreat Festival in Pembrokeshire. The festival is entirely devoted to wellbeing with inspiring talks from authors, yoga classes galore, cold water baths, journalling workshops, exercise classes, creative workshops, live music, and lots of places to get delicious food and drink whatever your taste.
It had such a warm and friendly atmosphere, everyone was smiley, relaxed and there to have a good time. And I was there to give two talks about my book, The 1% Wellness Experiment.
I have a love-hate relationship with public speaking. Or perhaps a terrified-thrilled relationship would be more accurate.
In the lead-up I get more and more nervous, wondering why I put myself through this when I find it so nerve-wracking. And then afterwards, as well as the relief I made it through without messing up, I’m so touched by people telling me they enjoyed what I spoke about, what resonated with them and what they’re taking from the talk.
It’s an incredible honour and reward. Throughout that weekend women stopped me to let me know they had listened to the talk and what they were already taking on board and putting into action from what I shared.
In those talks I shared the concept of marginal gains and how spending just 1% of your waking day (that’s 10 minutes) on taking care of your mental and emotional wellbeing adds up to making a big difference. And how experimenting takes off the pressure to get it right or be instantly good at it, to do it a certain way that may not work for you, to miss a day and try again the next. I also shared four experiments from the book (two in each talk).
At the end of both talks I mentioned my recent discovery that I have ADHD and how, without realising it at the time, I had written The 1% Wellness Experiment to be neurodivergent-friendly in its concept and practical applications.
I noticed a very subtle but perceptible (to me at least) shift in the atmosphere when I mentioned my ADHD. An invisible thread of connection sprung forth between me and some of those listening and I’m so grateful to the women who came to me afterwards and throughout the weekend to share their own ADHD experiences.
And I know there will be women without an ADHD realisation (self-diagnosis is as valid as an ‘official’ diagnosis in my opinion) as well as those who do know they have ADHD, who haven’t come up to me – physically in person at the Big Retreat or virtually through the internet.
But who are quietly, thoughtfully taking it all in.
Women for whom what I share – in the book, here, on the Pressing Pause podcast – is resonating. I’m describing their experience, their challenges, doubts, questions, fears, frustration, confusion, disappointment.
The quiet women who don’t necessarily see themselves as unicorns or describe themselves as neurospicy (zero criticism if you do, all the colourful, glittery power to you).
The quiet, introverted, sensitive, empathetic women who are exhausted from spending their lives trying so, so hard to fit in, to not be too much and feeling like they’re not enough.
Who try to do the right thing, to do what they think they should do, what others want them to do, but feel like they’re coming up short.
Who listen and observe and take what others say to heart, with criticism or a negative remark feeling like visceral rejection, painful as a knife to the chest.
Who hate getting things wrong or being bad at something so avoid trying it even if they really want to do it.
Who replay what they said or did, wondering what they should have said or done, what the other person thinks of them and all the ways they could and should have done better.
Who care so much (and have been told countless time they’re too sensitive), can’t bear injustice or cruelty, and want to help and fix and make other people’s lives better.
Who try so hard to make people happy, to please and never let anyone down (or be thought of as a disappointment), even though it’s exhausting and breeding resentment (with the accompanying guilt for feeling that way). And who still feel like they’re letting down others, and themselves.
Too much and not enough
Who have spent a lifetime trying to be who they think they’re supposed to be or expected to be, containing and criticising themselves, striving to do more, to be more, to keep up but never quite managing it.
Who are thoughtful and contemplative, who have been told they’re too idealistic, too scattered in their thoughts, attention and interests, too quiet, too sensitive which all adds up to the long-standing feeling that they’ll never be enough.
The quiet, introverted, sensitive, empathetic women whose coping strategies no longer work like they used to because the pressure of years of striving and midlife hormonal changes make everything feel like it’s unravelling.
I know these women. I know you if you’re recognising yourself here.
Because I am a quiet, introverted, sensitive, empathetic woman and discovering I have ADHD doesn’t change that. I don’t feel like a unicorn and I don’t think of myself as neurosparkly (like I said, no shade if you do).
The description I was given by my assessing clinician of ‘high functioning’ doesn’t just apply to how I’ve been able to manage these struggles and fit in to a large extent with expected, accepted, neurotypical ways of operating in the world.
It also reflects the greater peace I feel for myself, the lens of self-compassion and self-acceptance through which I view myself.
And how that’s helped me to reduce the people-pleasing and perfectionism, to quiet the mean inner voice, to create and honour my own boundaries, to feel more peace, calm and joy.
I’ve not got it all figured out because – spoiler: no-one has anything all figured out (really, no-one has) – putting myself out in the world is a challenge because of the visceral fear of criticism or rejection.
That’s part of being a quiet, introverted, sensitive, empathetic woman, who also has ADHD. And I know it’s why you’ve been keeping quiet too.
Keeping yourself contained even though it’s getting harder and harder to fit yourself into the box you’ve been told and believe you need to fit in. (Another spoiler: it was never the box for you.)
So, from one quiet ADHDer to another quiet, maybe or maybe not ADHDer…
Hello.
I’m glad you’re here.
Whenever you’re ready to say hi, I’m here too.
Until next time,
I was very chuffed to not only sell out of my book but also to be on the author signing line-up with Great British Bake-Off winners Kim Joy and Giuseppe, and the legendary Ruby Wax!
Supporting quiet, empathetic, sensitive, introverted late-(self)diagnosed ADHD women find self-acceptance and understanding, as well as calm and joyful freedom to be their unique, beautiful selves.
Thank you for seeing me (us) Gabrielle 💛
Thank you for this post! I've been reflecting on ADHD and neurodivergence as an identity and a community too, so your point about an invisible thread of connection really resonates with me.
It's also wonderful to read about experiences from someone more on the introverted side, who might not conform with outdated expectations of what ADHD "looks" like. 🥰