In this raw and deeply honest reflection, Elizabeth Takyi – our Neurodiversity and Disability Engagement Lead – Shares her journey of being diagnosed with ADHD at the age of 53.
My Late ADHD Diagnosis as a Black Woman
For most of my life, I felt like I was swimming against a current that no one else could see. My mind moved fast.
I was constantly forgetting things, losing focus, running late, starting but not finishing, overthinking, procrastinating, and then hyper focusing for hours without eating or moving. From the outside, I seemed scatty or inconsistent. Inside, it felt like I was drowning.
The answer came when I was 53, in the form of four-letter A-D-H-D.
A Label That Made the Puzzle Pieces Fit
Being diagnosed with ADHD as an adult and as a Black woman was both a revelation and a relief. For years, I had internalised the idea that I was lazy, disorganised, or just bad at adulting. I’d push myself harder, would hide my struggles, and silently battle burnout while trying to meet societies expectations.
When I finally heard the words, ‘You have ADHD,’ I cried not because I was broken, but because I was finally understood.
ADHD Isn’t What I Thought It Was
Like many people, I grew up with a stereotypical image of ADHD: a hyperactive boy who couldn’t sit still in class.
That wasn’t me. I wasn’t bouncing off the walls or causing disruptions in the classroom. I was daydreaming, zoning out, emotionally overwhelmed, or quietly spiralling into anxiety when things got too much.
Stigma in Every Direction
As a black woman, I’ve felt stigma in the medical system, in the workplace and in communities. For many Black families, mine included, talking about mental health let alone neurodiversity, is still taboo. It’s easier to label a child as ‘naughty and lazy’ than to explore deeper explanations like ADHD.
Black women are often raised to embody strength, resilience, and self-sufficiency; the so-called ‘Strong Black Woman’ archetype.
Breaking the stigma requires intersectional awareness, acknowledging how being black, a woman and having ADHD can create a unique set of challenges.
Before my diagnosis, I was treated for anxiety and depression. And while those were very real, they were also symptoms of living with undiagnosed ADHD. The constant overwhelm. The missed deadlines. The shame of procrastinating so long that you sabotage your own success. The emotional dysregulation that no one warns you about.
I blamed myself – I thought I just needed more discipline and more motivation. But you can’t fix ADHD with shame. You can’t meditate, manifest, or punish your way out of being neurodiverse.
The Workplace: Where Adjustments has helped to overcome ADHD
When it comes to the workplace, getting a diagnosis helped me advocate for myself at work; but it hasn’t always been easy. The Equality Act 2010 was implemented to protect employees with ADHD as a disability but with so many new guidelines and limited exposure to information surrounding neurodiversities and disabilities, many employers may still be working on obtaining knowledge on ADHD or reasonable adjustments.
I currently work for neurobox, a company dedicated to supporting neurodivergent and disabled employees, as well as the organisations they work for. I’m fortunate to now have access to a range of workplace adjustments that have been put in place to support me. For instance, working from home has provided the quiet and focus I need to thrive. These adjustments have been liberating – It’s about neurodiverse and disabled employees having a fair shot at success, just like everyone else.
Embracing ADHD: From Shame to Self-Compassion
Accepting my ADHD wasn’t just about a diagnosis, it was about learning to forgive myself. I now understand why I’ve always struggled with procrastination, why I feel so deeply, why I can’t always do things ‘the normal way’ and why I sometimes hyperfocus for hours and forget the world around me.
I’ve found strength in my diagnosis, not weakness. I’ve learned how to work with my brain, not against it. I use tools such as:
- Timers
- Body doubling
- Accountability
- Chunking
- And importantly, I’ve stopped pretending to be someone I’m not.
For Those Walking the Road Less Traveled
If you’ve ever felt like you’re constantly falling short, if you’ve been called dramatic, disorganised, emotional, moody, forgetful, or too much.
If you’ve masked for so long that you don’t even know who you are without the pressure, you are not alone.
You are not lazy. You are not broken. You are not failing. You are living in a world that wasn’t built with your brain in mind.
By speaking up, by getting diagnosed (if you choose to), by unlearning shame and reclaiming our narratives, we’re building a future where neurodivergent Black women are seen, heard, and believed.
Diagnosis didn’t cure me. But it gave me the language, the tools, and the permission to finally breathe. And for the first time in a long time, I’m no longer trying to fix myself. I’m learning to honour who I am.
Additional ADHD Resources
‘Things it’s ok to ask for when you have ADHD’
ADHD and Motivation Bridges
ADHD Awareness Month 2025
About the author
Elizabeth uses her own lived experience to increase understanding and advocate for neurodiversity and the empowerment of those with a neurodifferences in the workplace.
Elizabeth was diagnosed with Dyslexia, Dyspraxia and Irlen Syndrome, in her adulthood. She was also diagnosed with Dyscalculia in 2019, and with ADHD in Feb 2023.
Elizabeth overcame cultural barriers and challenges to graduate with a BA(Hons) and PGCE. She then went on to successfully run a charitable organisation for 6 and half years in London.
Related readings
What’s your Strength – The Neurodiversity Pack has Arrived
