ADHD in the Workplace: Why I Struggled to Find my Place

From a young age, I was chatty, easily distracted, overly keen and constantly daydreaming — the classic signs of neurodiversity we know now, though back then it wasn’t really recognised as anything except ‘could go far if she applied herself more’ After leaving school, I bounced between jobs, unable to settle or identify a clear career path. I tried everything from policing to junior office roles, always searching for something that clicked.

Taking a role in recruitment, I started working in payroll, however, I struggled; losing count, zoning out during repetitive tasks, and struggling with monotony. I was accurate, succeeding, but mentally drained. I gravitated toward towards the sales department in the office and I found energy and excitement— fast-paced, people-focused, and stimulating — where my outgoing nature and verbal fluency were assets.

Eventually, I landed a sales role after effectively engineering myself a role there, thriving on the adrenaline of cold calls and client engagement. But the high-pressure London lifestyle wore me down. I didn’t recognise burnout creeping in — I lacked the internal brakes to slow down, constantly chasing dopamine through work.

A shift into QA and testing came unexpectedly.  I’d begun working for a recruitment company who specialised in recruiting Quality Assurance and Testing roles.  I was seconded to their consultancy arm as an SME for a piece of recruitment software being developed, which I wasn’t too pleased about, but the country was in recession and people weren’t recruiting and clients had dried up so I went with it. Initially resistant, I found myself drawn to defect hunting — it was fast, reactive, and rewarding. But the quiet, structured environment was a stark contrast to sales. My extroversion and impulsivity didn’t quite fit, and masking became second nature. I wasn’t sure I wanted this as my actual career, as it would be career another jump, another switch and I’d worked hard to get my sales role. I convinced them to keep my job open so that I had the option to come back… I never did.

Despite continual imposter syndrome and nagging self-doubt, I progressed through my career in Software testing to QA Manager within financial services. During this time, my son had been diagnosed with ADHD & Autism and suddenly everything started making sense.  The more I learnt for him, the more I realised why I felt like I always had to try harder to ‘fit in’, bite my tongue, be less chatty, be more organised, wear a mask.

I’m sure many of you reading all the text above this paragraph would identify the obvious traits of ADHD in me before getting this far! My son’s consultant tip toed round suggesting an assessment for me, but by this point I already knew. I just hadn’t made myself a priority. She challenged me and said I wouldn’t just be doing this for me, it would help the entire family, so I agreed.

The deeper I dug to find more ways of helping my son navigate life I found, the more I learnt for myself too.  Not only how to cope in certain situations, but also why it was a superpower in my career! 

Test analysis isn’t just about finding bugs – it’s a big part of it, but not the sole purpose.  It’s always been acknowledged; I have a need to understand the whole project to understand the problems I’m there to find.  Because my brain works this way – I identify gaps in process, missed requirements, technical oddities, things other process driven testers wouldn’t find. I find more passion in that, than in finding defects, Why? Because ADHD brains allow you to think big, over analyse, hyperfocus, leading to high attention to detail and ultimately leveraging creative problem solving using unconventional methods. A heightened ability to observe and analyse patterns really is a strong asset in testing.

Though it's my superpower, it can also be my weakness; hyperfocus sometimes leads to burnout, analysis paralysis slows progress and juggling too much causes disorganisation and distractibility

I often struggle to accept compromises on quality. My brain naturally leans toward strategic thinking and long-term impact, but I’ve found that organisations frequently favour quick, tactical fixes — even when they undermine the integrity of the product. That disconnect can be frustrating, especially when I can clearly see the downstream risks others overlook.

One of the biggest shifts in my career since being diagnosed, has been learning when to challenge and when to let go.  Compromising used to feel like failure. But understanding my circle of control has been pivotal. It’s helped me channel my energy more effectively and reduced the frustration that comes from watching poor decisions unfold outside my influence.

Now, I understand which guardrails I need daily: I rely on organised to-do lists, set meal reminders to avoid skipping lunch when hyper-focused, and break down big tasks into manageable steps to prevent overwhelm. When I start feeling dysregulated, mindfulness, meditation, or background music help me refocus and block out distractions.  Regular exercise has become a vital outlet for managing frustration and emotional overwhelm. Whether solo or in group classes, I’ve gained a tribe that lifts me up, keeps me accountable, and brings joy when I need it most.

More importantly I’ve learnt to speak up when I’m struggling, acting like a glacial swan when under the surface I’m struggling to stay afloat helps neither my company nor me.  It's often difficult for neurodiverse people to confidently say no or push back. The fear of offending someone then losing sleep over analysing it doesn’t seem worth it at times. However, knowing now that neurotypical brains rarely think what we fear, and their brains can actually be silent, (I always thought everyone always had a noisy brain) means they probably haven’t given it second thought and appreciate the input and honesty.

My biggest takeaway since being diagnosed and adapting how I work, is knowing how to help myself, which helps others.

ADHD doesn’t define me, it doesn’t debilitate me, I’m still the same old me, I just now know how to be the best version of me.