Last week, after a month of assessments and tests, I was diagnosed Autistic ADHD. Or as it’s often referred to now, AuDHD. You could also say neurodivergent. An almost 49-year-old woman finding out I am AuDHD. The first thing I said when I found out was, “Wow, what now? Do I have a parade?”
I spend my working life with extraordinary neurodivergent people, and more and more I was thinking, “Hmm… this is familiar.” Eventually, I decided to go and check it out. The assessment process and eventual diagnosis was remarkable, validating, amazing, challenging, intense, and totally strange all at once.
It felt like pulling on a ball of string that slowly unravelled, and suddenly I was seeing my life anew. At the same time, there was this sense of, well… everyone seems to be discovering they’re neurodivergent. Do I really want to jump on the bandwagon?
Well, yes. I do. Because of the difference it makes to others, and because of the freedom it gives me.
Last week I was facilitating a social hub for autistic teens, and I introduced myself as AuDHD. I said, “I have some sense of how life is for you, and I can tell you—my life is FABULOUS, and this all works out.” Something shifted in them. Something opened. Something became possible.
Nothing about me has changed, and yet there is a whole new world to explore. People might say, “You? No.” Or, “Well, we’re all on the spectrum, aren’t we?” No. We are not.
There are brains that operate in certain ways, and brains that operate differently—and within that, many varied expressions. It is the accumulation of experiences, behaviours, and perceptions that allow clinicians to say, “You are autistic and/or ADHD,” or you are not. (And to be clear, being autistic does not mean you are ADHD and vice versa. For me, I am both.)
We may all show traits associated with neurodivergence, but you cannot isolate one or two behaviours and make that determination. You simply are—or you are not. And that distinction matters.
The first place I went was, well… life moves on. So what? I’ve never labelled myself—why would I now? This label doesn’t define who I am. Then came the next question: how did I not know? I even wondered if I had somehow made it up.
Slowly, I began to see all the ways I have worked so hard with my brain—how I’ve learned to accommodate, manage, triumph, and then collapse into exhaustion. The world sees me as an extrovert, yet my least preferred thing is being around lots of people.
I started reflecting and had a small epiphany. I am short, and when I can’t reach the top cupboard, I get a chair. But with my brain, it’s been like I’ve spent my life jumping and jumping, telling myself, “What’s wrong with you? Just jump higher. You should be able to reach this.”
What’s opening now is the idea of getting a chair for the parts of my brain that need one. And suddenly, I can see what might be possible if I wasn’t working so hard trying to force my brain to operate in ways it was never designed to.
Now I’m in a space of wonder. I am amazed by my brain. I can hold multiple streams of thought at once—like parallel conversations—perfectly placed and navigated simultaneously. I think fast, abstractly, creatively, and beyond conventional frameworks. I connect with people in ways that are deep, meaningful, and lasting.
As the General Manager of The A List Hub—created so neurodivergent young people can find a place where they can “Be Social Your Way”—I see how powerful this understanding is. I have such an opportunity to make a difference.
Our ten-year-old, extraordinary, sassy, brilliant, funny autistic/ADHD daughter said, “Well Mum, bye bye neurotypical and hello being yourself.” I couldn’t have said it better.
I have so much more to say about how the world currently treats neurodivergent people—the assessment systems, the stereotypes, the years of overlooking female and female-identifying experiences, and how we continue to design a world for neurotypical brains.
But for now, I am celebrating. I am advocating. I am creating.
Maybe I will have a parade.
— Madeleine Jaine Lobsey
General Manager, The A List Hub