So, my story so far, I’d lost my job, been to see a recruitment consultant, resulting in the decision to explore becoming an ADHD coach.

To get started, I threw myself into loads of short courses – just simple ones to brush up on my knowledge about ADHD and coaching. Then, I enrolled in this brilliant course that would eventually qualify me as an ADHD coach. It was such a game-changer. The interesting thing about it, though, was that out of the whole group, almost everyone on the course had ADHD – except for me and maybe one or two others. I was one of the only neurotypical people there, and honestly, that felt a bit strange.

In conversations, I kept picking up this vibe that maybe coaching people with ADHD would be tricky for someone who doesn’t have it. There was this question hanging in the air: How can you truly understand ADHD if you’ve never lived it? How do you coach people through something you haven’t experienced yourself?

At first, I found that bizarre because everything I’d learned about ADHD made so much sense to me. I could totally empathise, and for some reason, I just got it. I didn’t realise at the time that not everyone has that same instinctive understanding.

As part of the course, I started coaching a pro bono client, and after I qualified, continued to work with him. That’s when things got really interesting. This client asked me outright: Are you sure you don’t have ADHD? We both laughed it off, and it became a bit of a running joke between us. Then, along came another client, someone I’d known for years from my time supporting them at university. Same thing – convinced I had ADHD. Cue more joking about it.

Now, here’s the funny part. I remember one particular moment during the course when the trainer casually said, I believe there are people here who don’t even know they have ADHD yet. I was fascinated by that. I started looking around the group, trying to figure out who she might mean. It never even crossed my mind to consider myself.

For as long as I can remember, I've struggled with two things: overreacting emotionally to situations and feeling like no one truly understands me. It’s not so much that I care if people like me — I really don’t mind that at all — but I can’t stand being misunderstood. The frustration that comes from not feeling heard or seen for who I am can be overwhelming.

This all came to a head during a supervision session with my training provider as part of my journey to gain accreditation with the Association for Coaching. I had booked this session with the intention of talking through some challenges I was facing, particularly around getting clients. I felt that I was compassionate, empathetic, and totally in tune with their situations — but something was holding me back. The one thing I kept coming back to was the idea that, perhaps because I’m not neurodivergent myself, I was struggling to connect on a deeper level.

Then, out of the blue, my supervisor stopped me mid-session. She asked if we could pause the supervision and have an honest conversation. What she said next caught me completely off guard…

To find out what happens next on my journey, look out for my next post!