“suddenly it all makes sense!”
your disclosure doesn’t make us the same
I don’t write a lot about what’s on my mind when it comes to neurodivergence and advocacy these days. When I did years ago, it became incredibly stressful for me.
But, as it turns out, saying controversial things in ways that will be acceptable to whiteness led me to be broke, burnt out and broken. Not the life I want to lead. Never doing that again either. So, with all that being said, I’ll just get right into what I’ve noticed lately.
I’m gonna say, a no doubt unpopular opinion, and you can feel free to take what resonates and leave the rest, or just stop reading here, but…
If I have to listen to one more white woman make a point of informing me that they got an ADHD diagnosis and now, “suddenly everything in their life makes sense” etc… etc… etc. I’m gonna lose my shit.
Why?
Because a) I never asked them to tell me anything. Nothing. I. Never. Wanted. To know. Why do they insist on bringing this up with me in every damn conversation, wherever possible?!
b) Just because our kids have the same diagnoses or I was a teacher for 18 years, or I wrote a book on the topic (It’s Never Just ADHD - if you wanna read something new on the ADHD for a change), doesn’t mean we’re samesies. I haven’t even told you anything about my diagnoses and your late in life ADHD diagnosis will never equate to the trauma or lived experiences as my being Black in this society does. So why do you feel called to dump this on me?!?
And c) You using this diagnosis as an explanation (but sounding more like an excuse), for things I could NEVER, EVER get away with doing, is not us bonding. We don’t experience this society in the same way. At. All. So why do you expect me to understand and sympathise with you?! Something I know you’d never do for me.
This really makes no sense yet, but stay with me, cuz you know I’ll make sense of it.
Once, in my eating disorder therapy group (and if you know anything about eating disorder spaces, you’ll know they’re white women dominated AF), I disclosed my neurodivergence to a white woman who first told me about hers. In her next breath, she outed me to the whole damn group.
It was awful.
I mean, good for her for feeling empowered and motivated from her diagnosis and all that, but look, it’s doesn’t necessarily mean the same for me. I might not need anything else being used against me, ya know?? I’m Black already and that’s often too much for whiteness to handle as it is. Telling everyone with ears at every available opportunity that I have multiple neurodivergence would never make me feel safer or even as understood as when white women declare it about themselves.
I should have known better. I’ve dealt with the fall out of sharing my neurodivergence enough times with them to know better.
Never again.
Yes, there have been times when I’ve had to out myself for necessity (looking at you some of my field hockey teammates, cuz I guess having panic attacks for being coached in front of the team mid match deserves some sort of explanation), and knowing my neurodivergence has helped me learn to navigate the world a lot more effectively. But my go-to response is to be mindful of who knows what about me. I think spending your life being policed by whiteness at school, work and home (I’m a transracial adoptee, remember?) does that to you.
However, these women rarely consider the privilege in being able to disclose their diagnosis to others and the ability to expect to be met with understanding (or even with more compassion) because of it.
Many things can be true at the same time.
Yes, being diagnosed late in life sucks. It comes with self doubt, regrets and even trauma. But, for white women it also comes with privileges you can use that those most marginalised people often can’t.
When they can’t see this, it’s exhausting for me personally, as someone more marginalised to listen to,
“Oh I have ADHD, so I can’t…”
“My ADHD means that I…”
“Oh I don’t care! I have ADHD so…”
“I can’t help interrupting! I have ADHD so…” (laughs and continues nonstop)
“I’m neurodiverse.” (Sigh… which I think is their clever way of hinting to numerous neurodivergence. But this is grammatically incorrect, and alas, I could never actually tell them that…)
I’m meant to nod and say something like,
“Oh wow. That must be so difficult for you.”
“I can’t imagine!”
“That’s ok! I understand”
“So good that you’re finally learning to “unmask”” (Unmask - another hard eye roll of mine I’ll have to save for another essay)
“It must have been such a struggle growing up like that.”
I used to wonder why I rarely met Black women who did this same thing (which, by the way, if it’s happened is usually when it’s only us). Now, I know it’s about how we learned to protect ourselves. It may not have been the easiest or most effective thing for us to do, but at the time it’s also what kept us safe, especially in white spaces. Not speaking about our needs is still what keeps many of us safe in these spaces today.
Now, if you’ve made it this far, let me assure you that this essay isn’t about dumping on white women for feeling they can disclose their neurodivergence, but I can’t. I mean, tell the whole world! Go for it! Yay! Go you! But what it does make me think about is how the mainstream narrative around ADHD is still centred on whiteness, continuing to excluded the experience of marginalised communities from its conversation. They don’t consider what it means for us as Black, brown or East Asian children who got told such things like,
“Why are you here asking for help with this essay? You’re just gonna graduate and mummy and daddy will support you anyway?”
“You’re not trying hard enough! Maths should be easy for you!”
“You need to calm down. You’re acting crazy!”
Now before I get the inevitable “I’m white, and I got told this…” comment, please just remember how you started that sentence. You’re still white, first. Deep down, that sense of injustice from not being diagnosed earlier in your life comes from not having the same rights to earlier diagnosis as white boys did. It’s also about how that impacted your ability to do what society wanted you to be, in upholding white men (and white supremacy), and the promises got shoved down your throats if you could do that. That’s why in ADHD advocacy we ALWAYS hear about “little white boys”, which also happens to be the only time (ADHD) white women feel called to mention the race of anyone they’re referring to.
I said what I said. And now I’ll say some more.
It’s never really been about the needs of all girls and women. No one cared about ADHD girls and women as it was initially (I wrote about this in my book too). It’s always been about whiteness (but in this case, white women), getting access to what they think they need for themselves to uphold the expectations of this society, regardless of the struggle of others.
We learn in this society there’s “not enough” for everyone. If someone needs something, then it must mean someone must go without (not true by the way, whiteness loves to hoard). It’s why the dominant culture likes to pit marginalised groups against each other. There’s always someone else to blame while the real problems, which are rooted in the culture itself, stay hidden. Then nothing has to change.
In a supremacy culture, it’s always about having/being the most or least. Whiteness needs to be it. We don’t stop to think who benefits from being diagnosed and supported for their neurodivergence, and who must go without. Personally, I think most ADHD advocacy has the same kind of energy as women fight for voting rights in the United States. Susan B Anthony wasn’t fighting for all women’s right to vote. Just white woman, remember?
You see, these white women I meet, disclosing something about themselves I even didn’t ask for, don’t share for my benefit. They share for theirs. They wanna see themselves as the just as impacted by society as I am. As if their late in life diagnosis somehow equates to the life time of racial trauma I endure. As if I don’t have a few of those late in life diagnoses myself.
And like a good little Black woman I’ve been trained to be, I make them comfortable. I empathise, make them feel seen and heard while holding emotional space for them. It’s uncomfortable to speak up and the more I sit back and shrink myself, the more I dehumanises us both in the process. And participate in hiding the real problems we all face, too. They can’t see beyond themselves and if they actually try, it usually comes across as performative, because it’s rarely if ever, intersectional. In the end, it’s about accessing more power, not about liberating all of us. When I learn to speak truth to what’s happening, I remember their humanity, as well as my own, even though they are so disconnected from theirs, they can never see mine.
But who really benefits when we all get meds (which I don’t think is wrong by the way, I take them sometimes myself) to make us more productive, while we communicate, use our executive functioning skills and creativity in ways that is closer to expectations anyway? All the while denying and hiding the parts of ourselves that might need or feel differently about who were meant to be?
The dominant culture doesn’t deal with the root causes of our problems because we’re kept from seeing them. Instead, we get to be labelled as the problem and therefore must be fixed to be the answer.
So, what’s the intention behind their disclosure?
I know it’s not for me.
And as I write this, I’m suddenly aware of what it is that bothers me about this whole exchange. They don’t see me as ever going through a late diagnosis because there’s no way that we could possibly be the same.
They had a problem that could be fixed.
If I’ve ever struggled, it’s just the way I am.
I have so many of these things I’ve noticed over the years. It occurred to me that I have the capacity to write about them now, so write I shall. We can all afford to look at the intention for which we do things and who it actually serves.
Also keep your eyes open for my new embodiment colouring journal, Keystone being self-published in the next week!! Eek!!! I can’t wait! You’ll love it!