There is one thing I hear in so many ADHD assessments that has always stayed with me.
“I’m sorry.”
It’s often one of the very first things someone says, and sometimes it’s one of the last.
“I’m sorry I’m talking too much.”
“I’m sorry, I’ve gone off track.”
“I’m sorry, I’m probably not explaining this very well.”
Every time I hear those words, I find myself asking the same question:
Why are you apologising?
The emotion behind that simple phrase is palpable. You can almost feel the years of self-doubt, disappointment and the quiet belief that, somehow, they’re already “not good enough.”
For many of the people I meet, those apologies seem to have grown from years of hearing things like:
“You have so much potential if only you applied yourself.”
“You need to try harder.”
“Why haven’t you finished it?”
“You’ve missed another deadline.”
After hearing messages like these for years, it’s understandable how someone might begin to believe them.
But where is the evidence?
Often, the evidence tells a very different story.
You passed your exams despite struggling to attend school consistently.
You’ve built a successful career.
You’ve raised a family.
You’ve overcome challenges that nobody else has seen.
Yet that feeling remains.
“I’m not good enough.”
Then the anxiety creeps in.
“What if they ask me something and I say something stupid?”
Not because you aren’t interested.
Not because you don’t care.
In fact, you’re trying incredibly hard to listen.
But your brain quietly slips away—not to something important like wondering whether you’ve left the oven on—but to the rain outside the window, someone walking past the room, or noticing that your colleague is wearing a lovely top today.
Then someone turns to you and asks,
“What do you think?”
Somehow, your brain has gathered just enough key words to piece together a response.
You smile.
You nod.
You answer.
On the outside, it looks effortless.
Inside, you’ve been working twice as hard just to stay in the conversation.
By the end of the day, you’re exhausted.
You drive home thinking,
“I just about managed today.”
All you want to do is climb into bed and pull the covers over your head, hoping nobody asks anything more of you.
Then comes the question:
“What’s for dinner?”
For many people, it feels like the final straw.
Eventually, you get into bed, but sleep doesn’t come easily. Your brain replays every conversation, every mistake you think you made, every moment you worry you weren’t good enough.
Before you know it, the alarm goes off.
It’s a new day.
You get ready.
You walk into work.
Someone asks you a question.
And before you’ve even realised you’ve said it…
“Sorry.”
Maybe that’s why the word feels so automatic.
Not because you’ve done something wrong.
But because, for so many years, you’ve been apologising for a brain that has been working twice as hard just to make everything look effortless.
If this resonates with you, I hope you know this:
You don’t need to apologise for the way your brain works.
Nicola Gordon
ADHD Advanced Nurse Practitioner
