I see you: The Hidden Generation of ADHD Women

It's never too late to discover your neurodivergent truth

I bought a vintage children’s book at the car-boot sale on the weekend – I’ve always loved vintage books! I was skimming through the pages when I got home and came across the image below. I felt immediately sad and just an overwhelming sense of grief for the women I often work with. Did you experience this sort of judgement when you were growing up? Did you find yourself staring out of the window at school, or being told you were too loud, too over-dramatic etc etc.?

Did your report card have words written by the teacher with phrases such as "Has potential but lacks focus. Doesn't apply herself. Too easily distracted."?

Did you wonder why you were ‘lazy’ or why you struggled at school?

The Invisible Girls

If this story feels familiar, you're not alone. For women now in their 50s, 60s, and 70s, this was the reality of growing up with undiagnosed ADHD in an era when the condition was barely recognised, let alone understood in girls.

You might have been the daydreamers. The ones with messy desks and messier thoughts. The ones who could hyperfocus on a book for hours but couldn't remember to bring home your homework. You might have been labelled "scatterbrained," "ditzy," or worst of all, "lazy."

I see you.

I see the decades you spent internalising these labels, believing there was something fundamentally wrong with your character rather than understanding that you are simply wired differently.

I see the compensatory strategies you developed—the elaborate systems, the overwork, the constant anxiety of trying to keep up with expectations that your neurology made exceptionally challenging.

I see the careers changed, the opportunities missed, and the exhaustion of masking day after day after day.

"Am I Too Old for This to Matter?"

One of the most frequent questions I hear from women in their later years is whether there's any point in pursuing an ADHD diagnosis now. After all, you've made it this far. You've built lives, raised families, had careers—all while unknowingly wrestling with challenges that neurotypical people don't face.

My answer is an emphatic: It is never too late to understand yourself.

A diagnosis at 50, 65, or 75 doesn't change your past, but it can transform your future and, perhaps more importantly, reframe your past. What you saw as personal failings can now be recognised as differences in the wiring of your body-mind. The self-blame that has been your companion for decades can finally begin to lift. The loneliness you felt, even when you were in social groups can now be explained, and it’s not too late for you to still go out and find your tribe.

The Grief Is Real

When women receive an ADHD diagnosis later in life, there often follows a period of intense grief. This grief deserves acknowledgment and respect.

You grieve for the girl who believed she wasn't trying hard enough. You grieve for the girl who was squashed down.

You grieve for the young woman who internalised shame about her energy and outspoken voice.

You grieve for career paths not taken, opportunities missed, and the energy expended on masking and compensating.

You grieve for decades spent without the accommodations, strategies, and self-understanding that might have made life easier.

This grief is not just valid—it's a necessary part of healing. It's the recognition of real loss and hardship. And it's also not the end of the story.

Breaking the Myth of Laziness

What disturbs me most as a therapist in 2025 is that despite our advances in understanding neurodiversity, the myth of laziness persists. Even now, I hear parents, teachers, and even some healthcare providers attribute ADHD behaviours to a lack of effort or character.

Let me be absolutely clear: ADHD is not laziness. In fact, most people with ADHD are working harder than their neurotypical peers just to achieve the same results. The irony is not lost.

When a child (or adult) with ADHD seems unable to focus on a task, it's not because they don't care or aren't trying. It's because their brain's executive function system—the neurological air traffic control that helps prioritise, sequence, and maintain attention—works differently.

The tragedy is that labelling someone as lazy doesn't motivate improvement; it crushes self-esteem and creates a self-fulfilling prophecy. When you believe you're fundamentally flawed, why even try?

What Diagnosis Can Offer at Any Age

If you're wondering whether pursuing a diagnosis in your later years is worth it, consider what understanding your neurodivergence might provide:

1. Self-compassion: Replacing decades of self-blame with understanding.

2. Community: Finding others who share your experiences and speak your neurotype language.

3. Targeted strategies: Working with ADHD-informed professionals to develop approaches that work with, not against, your brain.

4. Better healthcare: Understanding the intersection of ADHD with periods, aging, menopause, and other health conditions.

5. Family healing: Many women discover their ADHD after a child or grandchild is diagnosed, creating opportunities for multi-generational understanding.

6. Legacy of understanding: Breaking cycles of shame and misunderstanding for future generations.

To the Watchers at Windows

To the women who were once little girls staring out classroom windows, whose rich inner worlds were dismissed as daydreaming:

I see you.

Your divergent thinking wasn't laziness—it was creativity.

Your distractibility wasn't carelessness—it was your brain processing a world rich with stimuli and possibilities.

Your forgetting wasn't irresponsibility—it was a different memory system that prioritised interest over importance.

It's not too late to reclaim your narrative, to understand yourself through the lens of neurodiversity rather than deficit. It's not too late to find community, strategies, and the profound relief that comes with finally having an explanation that makes sense.

The window you once gazed through as a child seeking escape can now become a way back to your true neurodivergent self—not as broken, but as beautifully different.

And know that you were never, ever lazy.