I Wasn’t Lazy—I Was Lonely: Why Community Changed Everything for My ADHD

A story of shame, support, and self-worth from a late-diagnosed mom with ADHD

For years, I carried around this label: disorganized.
Not because I wanted to be, but because I genuinely struggled to keep up—and no one around me understood why.
I forgot appointments, ran late, lost track of things that “should” have been simple. I felt like I was constantly failing at the basics of adulthood and motherhood. The shame was heavy, and it grew heavier every time I disappointed someone—especially when it involved my son.

The Bottle Incident: A Moment I’ll Never Forget

After I had my son, we were sometimes invited to outings with my brother’s family.
On two different occasions, not far apart, I forgot one essential thing: the baby bottle.
Not because I didn’t know he needed to eat. Not because I didn’t care. I had the bottle—ready, warm—but both times, I left it sitting in the warmer.

And those small but very real mistakes? They weren’t met with grace.
Instead, my family went to my parents and sister and told them, “She needs diaper bag 101… at 35 years old.”

I wasn’t diagnosed with ADHD yet.
I was trying so hard.
But that moment wrecked me.

I spiraled. I felt like I wasn’t cut out to be a mom. The embarrassment and guilt consumed me.
How could I forget something so important?
What kind of mother does that?
Maybe my son would be better off with someone else…

That was just one example—one of many that followed the same pattern.
And every time, I sank deeper into the belief that I was broken. That I just didn’t have what it took to be a functional adult.

Diagnosis Wasn’t the End—It Was the Beginning

I finally got diagnosed with ADHD at 36. And with that diagnosis came clarity—but also a flood of grief.
Grief for all the years I spent beating myself up for something I didn’t understand.
Grief for all the times I thought I was just lazy, selfish, or not trying hard enough.

That’s when I found ND Hive—a neurodivergent-led community built specifically for people like me.
What I found there changed everything.

I Wasn’t Lazy—I Was Lonely

There’s this unique kind of loneliness that comes with being undiagnosed or unsupported with ADHD.
It’s not just the isolation of being misunderstood—it’s the internalized shame of believing the worst things people say about you.

When I joined ND Hive, I didn’t just get tips and tools.
I got validation.
I got laughter instead of judgment.
I got support instead of criticism.
I got stories from other neurodivergent adults who had forgotten things too—like entire diaper bags, appointments, birthdays, even pets at the vet.

And suddenly, my story didn’t feel shameful anymore—it felt shared.
When the pressure of perfection was taken off me… something beautiful happened:
I began to function better.
Not because I was trying harder, but because I wasn’t trying to do it alone anymore.

The Power of Peer Support and Coaching

Let me be clear—community doesn’t magically fix executive dysfunction. But it does something just as important:
It makes the hard stuff lighter.

Now, if I forget something, I can bring it to the community and laugh instead of spiral.
I don’t have to sit in the shame loop of “No other mom would’ve forgotten the bottle.”
Because now I know—I’m not the only mom who’s done that.
And it doesn’t make me a bad mom or incapable.
It makes me human. And neurodivergent.

With consistent coaching and body doubling, I finally started creating systems that actually work for my brain—and my family.
Even my husband noticed the difference just a few weeks in.
I wasn’t just “getting more done”—I was happier, more confident, and more present.
We were no longer spending two hours figuring out dinner (neither one of us could decide) because I had meal plans for the whole week.
I was able to finish work on time and cook calmly, leaving our evenings open for rest, connection, and play.

From Low-Energy Guilt to High-Confidence Living

Before finding community, I had many days where I couldn’t even sit up.
I’d cry because brushing my teeth or playing with my son felt impossible.
I’d promise we’d go to the park and then not have the energy to leave the house.

Those moments crushed me. The mom guilt. The exhaustion. The spiral.
Do they still happen sometimes?
Yes—but now they’re far and few in between.
And when they do, I know I have a community I can turn to—not to fix me, but to remind me I’m not broken.
To remind me I’m not alone.
And to gently offer tools when I’m ready.

A Real-Life Example: Calm in the Chaos

I’m writing this right now while visiting my sister—and it’s a moment that would’ve looked very different in my pre-community life.
We left yesterday.
And I had everything packed and ready the night before.
The house was clean.
The bags were by the door.
I wasn’t panicking. I wasn’t frazzled.

I used body doubling to clean and pack.
I used coaching to prepare and talk through my plan.
And on the day of travel, I said to my coach:
“It feels weird to not be panicking right now.”

That feeling? That peace? That’s the power of a neurodivergent community that gets it.

Why Neurodivergent Community Changes Everything

So many of us with ADHD grow up with labels like “messy,” “irresponsible,” “spacey,” or “inconsistent.”
We internalize those words and wear them like armor… or shame.

But community helps rewrite that story.

You’re not lazy.
You’re not too much.
You’re not the only one forgetting things.
You’re not alone.

And when you no longer have to spend all your energy hiding who you are…
You can finally start using that energy to build habits, systems, and confidence—in a way that’s uniquely yours.

From Shame to Shared Laughter, From Guilt to Growth

The disorganized mom who forgot the bottle in the warmer now has a system that works for her brain.
She gets support when she needs it.
She plans meals, packs bags, and leaves the house without spiraling.
She still has hard days—but she no longer faces them alone.

Join a coaching community that actually gets it.
If you’re tired of doing this on your own—come see what it’s like to feel seen, supported, and validated by people who actually understand ADHD.

Learn more at ND Hive.
You’re not lazy.
You’re not broken.
You’re not alone.