The messy middle of learning when to stand up or stfu

And resisting the ADHD urge to go "all or nothing"

ADHDers are highly susceptible to “all or nothing” thinking.

Like, when you take one barre class and suddenly decide you want to become a barre instructor. Or you read one romance fantasy novel and want to quit your job to write your own (or dump your man for a hot fae warrior). No? Just me?

That dopamine rush we get when we pursue a new hobby, project, or entire identity takes us from, in the wise words of Drake, 0 to 100 real quick. We ignore our friends, family, and physical needs because we’re so all-consumed. But no human can sustain that level of stamina, so we inevitably crash out.

I’m no exception. When I started the dating with adhd insta, I was as obsessed as if I had just matched with a guy who had a job, zero pics with dead fish, and didn’t send “snap?” as his opening message.

Same with this Substack. I filled my notes app with article ideas. I spent late nights frantically writing, rewriting, and overthinking posts. Until I got so overwhelmed by own ambition and burned myself out. That, coupled with my fear of being seen and my chronic fawn response, made me show up on here with the same consistency of a breadcrumbing Brad.

But as I’ve healed, unfawned, and unmasked, my “all or nothing” approach, at least with writing articles on Substack, has calmed down a bit. I’m no longer trying to reinvent myself. I’m simply doing what feels aligned with my authentic self. The subsequent surge in Substacking is coming from a place of overflow, not overstimulation. It feels euphoric. But it’s also foreign.

Finding my voice and using it presents a new challenge: learning when to stand up or stfu. Said differently, there’s a messy middle when going from anxious to authentic. It’s a new kind of “all or nothing.”

This conundrum arose when a man took it upon himself to educate me on ADHD in the comment section of my IG, where he informed me that ADHD isn’t always “cute and quirky” and that it’s actually “pretty sh*tty.”

Gee, and I was under the impression that having a higher chance of developing PMDD, endometriosis, and early-onset and more severe peri as a women with ADHD was the very definition of cute and quirky…

I think this comment irked me so much because men are still so clueless about how ADHD uniquely affects women. I shared my frustration on Notes, and attached an article I wrote on the physical, psychological, and emotional impacts of ADHD in women. In the article, I also mention how this knowledge is relatively new, because women have been majorly underrepresented in clinical research. I had originally written the article in response to another male keyboard warrior, who commented that “society accepts ADHD women and not men.” 🙄

On my Notes post, I received a comment by a man who so eloquently stated: “Yeah, No…I think there’s more value in a deeper physiological understanding than getting into gender stuff.” It was obvious to anyone with eyeballs that this man didn’t read the article. When I, and several other women (thanks queens!), pointed that out, he admitted that he didn’t read it, and “didn’t want to” because “it was sleeping time” for him. Lol. Mmkay.

I had just pulled into the Publix parking lot when I received another notification from the same guy. He decided to read the article and offer me his opinion in a three-paragraph tirade, where he accused me of “waging war”against men, argued that “not every man has a say in big Pharma,” and mansplained women’s hormones to me because he read a single book on the subject.

I was shaking with rage. I sped through the aisles of the grocery store, my mind on all the possible retorts I could send. When I got back to my car, forgetting half the groceries I went in for, I typed a draft and hit send.

My response wasn't perfect. I’ve thought of a million things I could’ve added, said differently, said better. But that’s not the point of this post.

The point is that I stood my ground and felt good about it. I didn’t spend hours drafting the perfect response before sending it. I don’t regret sending it, even now. This is something my former fawning self would’ve had spiraling anxiety over. My authentic self has none.

I was, however, enraged the rest of day. Most people would say I was letting him win. But I’ve learned that anger is a powerful emotion that reveals deeper truths. And when we listen to and process our anger, we can alchemize it for the greater good.

As I processed my anger, I recognized that it covered hurt. His comment triggered my childhood wound of feeling misunderstood, and all the pain and frustration that came with it.

It also revealed the fear of a bigger realization I knew to be true but wasn’t ready to accept: women’s health and feminism are inextricably linked. And in order to best serve as an advocate for women with ADHD, and do what feels aligned with my authentic self, I will inevitably trigger some men. I will receive many more flippant, ignorant, and downright degrading comments. His was only the beginning.

It’s a tough thing to accept as a former fawner. I don’t want to back down. But I don’t want to take on everyone’s sons, either. I just don’t have the emotional bandwidth. I can’t spend my days speeding down grocery stores aisles like a madwoman. And I certainly don’t want to have a social media crash out that rivals Trump.

I also don’t want to create a hostile environment for you. This is supposed to be a safe space, not a place where we’re getting in the mud with mid men. But I also want to stand up for you. Defend you. Protect you. The same way I wish someone had done for me. The same way I’m doing for my inner child now.

I can feel that ADHD drive to go “all or nothing.” To make a permanent, partisan choice: to fight for feminism with a raging fury or to continue calmly sharing my deep inner healing.

But the answer lies somewhere in the middle. I can boldly point out how f*cked up the patriarchy is, and I can softly share how I’ve healed from it with the hope that it helps you heal, too.

Sometimes my delivery might be awkward, imperfect, and messy. Like how I looked going to a barre class for the first time. Like the evolution of the main characters in the Maasverse (the Call Her Daddy x SJM episode still has this #booktok girly in her feels). But like the main characters (and my ass after a few more barre classes) we’ll get better, get stronger, get back up and keep going. And have some fun along the way.

Because ultimately, one of the greatest acts of resistance is joy. We just saw a perfect example in Bad Bunny’s halftime show. And it brings me so much joy to write witty, sassy little essays for you that have a deeper underlying message.

And that brings me back to my “why:” I launched this Substack to connect with and validate women with ADHD so that we can heal with a side of humor. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for allowing me into your inbox. It’s a privilege I don’t take for granted. In the meantime, you can catch me on Notes, where I may or may not be telling a Chad to catch me outside.