ADHD

There are certain conversations that stay with you long after you close the laptop or shut off the mic — the kind that crack you open a little because you realize just how many women are carrying the same invisible weight. My conversation with Ashley did exactly that. It peeled back the curtain on the emotional chaos, mental overload, and identity shifts that so many moms quietly navigate, especially when ADHD is woven into the story.

Talking to Ashley felt like talking to someone who had lived inside my brain — someone who understood what it’s like when motherhood doesn’t look the way you thought it would. She’s a mom of three boys, a fellow parent coach, and someone who didn’t just battle comparison and perfectionism… she lived in the trenches of them for years. And like so many of us, she struggled in silence until her son’s ADHD diagnosis opened the door to understanding her own.

What struck me most was how normal she made the “abnormal” thoughts feel. The moments you don’t say out loud — the nights you lose your temper because you’re exhausted down to your bones, the intrusive thoughts like wanting a harmless car accident just to get a break, the shame spirals that make you think something must be wrong with you. Hearing Ashley say those things without flinching made me realize just how not-alone so many moms are… even though it feels like we are. 

She talked about the early years of motherhood, how overwhelming everything felt, and how misunderstood she was by family who offered advice that only made her feel more broken. ADHD was silently shaping everything — the sensory overload, the anxiety, the emotional intensity, the constant planning and overthinking, the way even small outings felt like preparing for a natural disaster. And yet she didn’t have language for any of it at the time. All she had was the belief that she was the problem.

And honestly? I related more than I expected to.

We both talked about the “identity crisis” that happens in motherhood — something people don't warn you about. You think you’ll have a baby and slide into this role like it’s your life's calling… but for many of us, the opposite happens. You end up losing yourself somewhere between diaper changes, nap schedules, school pick-up lines, juggling careers, running the household, and desperately trying to regulate your own nervous system in the middle of it all.

And when ADHD is involved — whether diagnosed or not — every single part of motherhood is magnified. The noise. The mess. The transitions. The constant needs. The pressure. The overstimulation. The feeling that everyone else seems to be handling life better than you. Even the simplest tasks become mountains because your brain processes the world on “hard mode,” and yet you’re still expected to show up like it’s easy.

Ashley shared how receiving her son’s diagnosis was the first domino in understanding her own mental health. Suddenly the dots connected: the anxiety that never went away, the overwhelm that felt chronic, the inability to rest, the impulsivity, the racing thoughts, the difficulty completing tasks unless under pressure, the masking, the perfectionism. It all finally made sense. And instead of feeling ashamed, she felt validated — like someone had handed her a map to a place she had been wandering her entire life.

One of the most powerful parts of our conversation was when we talked about the holiday season. If you’re a neurodivergent mom or parenting neurodivergent kids, you know the sensory chaos of holidays is next level. The noise, the people, the pressure to “perform,” the multiple gatherings, the comments from family members who don’t understand… it’s enough to set anyone’s nervous system on fire.

Ashley broke down how her family learned to navigate overstimulation — both hers and her kids’ — by holding boundaries, advocating for their needs, and letting go of the pressure to do holidays “the way they’ve always been done.” And honestly, hearing another mom confidently say, “We just don’t do certain things because they’re too much for us,” felt like the permission slip I didn’t know I needed.

But maybe the most impactful moment came near the end, when she said something that hit straight to my core:

Read that again.

You’re not broken for finding motherhood overwhelming.
You're not broken for needing breaks.
You're not broken for feeling like you’re drowning sometimes.
You're not broken for reacting before you can regulate.
You're not broken for struggling with holidays, with family, with expectations, with sensory overload, with showing up, with holding it all together.
You are not broken. You’re human.

And just because no one around you is going through the exact same thing doesn’t mean no one understands. Your story matters. Your struggles matter. Asking for help matters. Speaking your truth matters. You don’t have to sit in shame or silence or isolation anymore.

Because as Ashley reminded me — and reminded all of us — there is hope on the other side. It might start with a tiny step. Telling one person. Making one appointment. Admitting one truth. Asking for one accommodation. Taking one break. Practicing one new tool. Giving yourself one ounce of compassion.

You don’t need to transform your entire life overnight. You just need to take the first step toward understanding yourself instead of blaming yourself.

You are powerful.
You are worthy.
You are valued.

And you are so deeply loved.

This motherhood thing isn’t meant to be done alone.

And if this episode taught me anything, it’s that none of us are actually doing it alone — we just need to start talking about it.

Connect with Ashley at www.theguidingwell.com