For most of my life, I thought something was “wrong” with me.
I couldn’t focus the way others did. I would misread things—sometimes hilariously, sometimes not so hilariously. I’d misplace items, hyper-focus on the wrong task, or spiral into anxiety when a to-do list felt impossible.
In 3rd grade, I was diagnosed with dyslexia and placed in a “special class” to work on reading. It was embarrassing. It pulled me away from my peers, and the class felt generic and unhelpful. Eventually, I just stopped going. I decided to figure it out on my own, which meant years of struggle.
ADHD wasn’t on anyone’s radar back then—especially not at my school—so that went undiagnosed and unsupported. I was eventually held back in 3rd grade. It felt like a punishment, and once again, I still didn’t get the help I needed. I had to keep pushing through, masking what I didn’t understand, and hoping no one noticed how hard everything felt.
It took me until my 30s to stop apologizing and start letting others in. To see my differences not as weaknesses, but as superpowers. And here’s how that shift changed everything.
Turning a Weakness into a Communication Strength
In high school, I focused hard on the very things I was told I wasn’t naturally good at—reading, writing, and public speaking. I practiced more than others. I stayed after class, rewrote papers multiple times, and worked hard to master spelling tests—though spelling bees were my personal nightmare. My brain just couldn’t put the letters in order out loud, and I’d end up saying things like “I-S-N-T-E-A-D” instead of “instead.” But I kept pushing.
Eventually, those “weaknesses” became my strengths. I not only gained confidence—I turned communication into a core part of my work. I became an advisor and a trusted trainer, regularly delivering impactful sessions on communication, leadership, wellness, and experience strategy.
Now, as a coach, I use those same skills to connect deeply with my clients. I’m great at articulating methods in a clear, accessible way. I actively listen to what my clients say (and what they don’t say), and I take notes during sessions to ensure we stay aligned on goals and progress. The same girl who once struggled to find her voice in a classroom now helps others find theirs every day.
I Hacked My Focus Instead of Fighting It
Focus doesn’t come easy to me. But once I accepted that my brain doesn’t work in a straight line, I stopped trying to force it. Instead, I got creative.
I learned how to create a calming environment that helps me focus: I turn off notifications, diffuse “calm” essential oils, and play dubstep. (The faster the beat, the faster I work.) When I’m writing or need deep focus, I switch to classical music to keep my brain in rhythm.
I stopped feeling bad about my focus tricks—and started embracing them. My environment became my support system.
I Work Best with Systems I Create
Planners? I love them. I also have dozens of half-started ones floating around in my bags.
Traditional productivity tools never quite worked for me. But once I gave myself permission to adapt instead of conform, I created systems that actually support how I operate.
Like my ADHD cleaning method: I set a timer for 30 minutes and allow myself to jump between cleaning tasks—dishes, laundry, organizing drawers. When the timer goes off, I set another one and finish things one by one. It keeps me moving and prevents overwhelm.
And despite what people say about multitasking—I’m actually really good at it. I’ve learned how to balance multiple projects, thoughts, and conversations in a way that energizes me (instead of draining me).
I Learned to Accept What I Need—and What I Don’t
I don’t need to do things the way other people do. And I certainly don’t need to beat myself up for it anymore.
I need flexibility, structure that’s optional, creative flow, and people who get me. I need reminders that my brain processes differently—and that doesn’t mean it’s broken. It just means I have to listen to it more closely.
Once I stopped measuring myself against people with different brains, I started feeling whole again.
What I’ve Learned (And What I Want You to Know)
I’m not broken. I’m not lazy. I’m not failing.
I’m wired differently. And that difference is my strength.
I may struggle with organization sometimes. My brain may overheat with ideas and emotions. But I’m also intuitive, innovative, deeply empathetic, and full of creative solutions that others might never think of.
My ADHD and dyslexia aren’t flaws to fix—they’re the framework that shaped the resilient, resourceful, compassionate coach I am today.
And if you’ve ever felt “too much,” “too scattered,” or “not enough,” I see you. You’re not alone. And you’re not broken either.
💬 I’d love to hear your story—especially if you’re navigating life with ADHD, dyslexia, or other neurodivergent traits. Let’s celebrate the way our minds work, even if they work differently.
#NeurodivergentStrengths #ADHDLife #DyslexiaAwareness #MindsetShift #CoachSamanthaE
