I was doing an exercise this morning - writing my eulogy.
Part of the assignment was to slow down and get clear on what I’d want each member of my family to say about me. That part felt grounding. Hopeful. Connecting. I felt grateful. And then came the curveball I didn’t see coming. “What are the things you are doing that the typical husband or dad is not doing?” I just sat there. Wide-eyed. My first thought was:…shit. I don’t know. Because if I’m honest, my brain immediately went to everything I struggle with: I’m inattentive. I’m often self focused. My nervous system gets overwhelmed easily. Im snappy I have time blindness I started life a decade behind my biological peers. I leave cabinet doors open. I forget birthdays and appointments I hyperfocus on things that don’t always serve me—knives, backpacks, keyboards. I’m impulsive. And when I stripped all that away and asked the harder question Am I actually doing anything different than a typical husband or dad? The answer felt uncomfortably close to no. Yes, I show up. Yes, I engage. Yes, I work on myself almost every day trying to understand who I am, how ADHD shows up in my life, and how it impacts the people I love. I attempt to take the things others tell me and show up more aware. Conscientious. There’s a quote that says having ADHD is working twice as hard to get half as far, while being told you’re not trying hard enough. But for most of my life, I’ve been fighting and clawing just to reach baseline. And baseline is exhausting. That’s part of the trap for those of us with ADHD: We start believing the baseline is the goal. I once said I was doing better than my parents at awareness, connection, participation. Someone replied, “And that’s the goal?” That one hit hard. Because the answer is no. Because there is still room to grow Especially when others closet to you need you to. This isn't about shame Or guilt Or not being good enough. This is about what is takes to be the husband and father I want to be. Desire to be. This is about who I want to be now