Braving Midlife

I always knew there was something a bit “extra” about me.

Spoiler alert: it’s not that I’m secretly a superhero or a time-traveling spy.

No, it turns out that I, a fully grown adult woman, have ADHD. And that does that explain a lot!

Picture this: I’m sitting in a room, listening to a lecture, diligently taking notes… and then BAM!

My mind is off on an adventure, imagining what my dog is doing at home, planning dinner, reminiscing about that one embarrassing thing I said in high school.

You know, the usual.

I was often told, “You need to focus more,” or “You forgot to call me.”

Now, let’s talk about Dory. Yes, the adorable blue fish from “Finding Nemo” and “Finding Dory.” Remember her? The one who can’t remember anything for more than a few seconds? Turns out, Dory and I have a lot in common.

Dory’s adventures resonate with me on a profound level. Her forgetfulness, her impulsive decisions, and her ability to switch topics faster than you can say “Just keep swimming” — all of these are hallmarks of ADHD. Watching her, I see myself: the endless energy, the quirky charm, and yes, the frustrating moments of “Wait, what was I doing again?”

Here’s a typical day in my life:

• I start with a plan to conquer the world, or at least my inbox.
• Halfway through, I find myself reorganizing my closet. How did I get here? Who knows!
• Suddenly, I remember the email I was supposed to send, dash back to my computer, only to get sidetracked by an article on how to train a pet hamster (which I don’t have, by the way).
• By noon, I’ve made significant progress on ten different projects, none of which are related to each other, and only some of which were on my to-do list.
• Around 3 PM, my brain decides it’s time for a creative surge, so I start brainstorming ideas for a novel, despite never having written fiction before.
• Then 4 PM hits. The caffeine has worn off, my brain has run out of its magical Dory energy, and suddenly, I’m frozen. Staring at my screen, trying to remember the simplest task feels like solving a Rubik’s cube blindfolded. My once-busy brain is now like a computer stuck in a perpetual loading screen.

It’s like living in a perpetual game of pinball, with thoughts bouncing around unpredictably. But now, instead of beating myself up about it, I’m learning to embrace it. Just like Dory, I’ve realized that my quirks make me unique. They give me a different perspective, a creative edge, and yes, a sense of humor about the chaos that often ensues.

ADHD is not just about being easily distracted or hyperactive.

It’s about living life with intensity and passion.

It’s about having a brain that works differently, and learning to harness that difference as a strength. Sure, I might lose my phone 13 times a day, but I can also come up with 10 different uses for a paperclip in the same breath.

To all my fellow late bloomers in the ADHD garden, remember this:

We’re not broken.

We’re just wired a bit differently.

Like Dory, we might forget things along the way, but we always find our way back. And in the process, we make life an adventure — unpredictable, colorful, and full of stories to tell.

So, next time you see a blue fish swimming across your screen, remember: She’s not just a cartoon. She’s a reminder that being different is not just okay — it’s something to celebrate.

And as for me? Well, I’m just going to keep swimming, one quirky day at a time.