I Don’t Know Why They Say It Isn’t: Failure Is Always An Option

 Why does failure have to be a negative thing?  Who decreed it so?  Who decided people should always succeed?  Don’t get me wrong; I like success.  It’s great.  I’ll even go so far as to say that I prefer success over failure.  But failure’s fine, too.  Why not? 

Most pro-failure posts are going to go on about how great failure is because that’s how you learn.  And it absolutely is.  That’s pretty much the only way to learn.  But what if you fail and it turns out that it’s not a learning opportunity.  It just didn’t work out.  That’s okay, too.  Not everything in life has to matter.  Not everything has to have value.  Sometimes, stuff just happens.  Sure, it’s wonderful if you can learn from a failure and use it to motivate you to improve.  Yeah, you go!   
When I went for the written portion of my driving test, back in the days when we used dinosaurs (do you know how hard it is to parallel park a Brontosaurus?), I failed.  That’s it.  I took the test and I didn’t get enough answers right and I failed the test.  I went back the next day and retook the test and passed it.  Not the best story.  I didn’t learn a lesson about perseverance or determination.  There was no montage of me staying up all night, surrounded by books with titles like, “The Law of the Road” and “Driving and You,” drinking too much coffee, falling asleep with pencils in my hair.  I didn’t have an emotional breakthrough as I discovered that, yes, test anxiety is real and I have it!  I don’t think I even studied again.  I just shrugged it off, came back the next day, and got my permit.  No, it wasn’t material for an After School Special or Lifetime Movie.  But it also wasn’t material for an After School Special or Lifetime Movie, if you see what I am saying.  It was just something that happened.  I don’t know why.  Maybe I was distracted or nervous.  Maybe I didn’t read the questions (or answers) correctly.  Maybe... I can’t even think of a reason.  I just didn’t pass.  It wasn’t meaningful or tragic or inspirational.   
Life is filled with so many giant, life-changing events, but not everything has to be one.  It’s okay to fail and have it mean nothing.  Unless you are skydiving, you should feel free to fail.  Most of the time, it isn’t going to matter.  Sometimes it will be good.  It will mean that you’ve learned something and that you have the opportunity to change and explore new paths and possibilities.  Embrace those moments!  They can change your whole outlook on life.  They can be what drives you.  They can be the best things that ever happen to you.  Or it will be something you never really think about again. 

Why does this matter?  Because fear of failure stops people from doing things.  Things they want to do.  Things they need to do.  Things that will help them grow and will allow them to live the life they want to live.  People are afraid to fail because someone said failure is bad.  Again, I don’t know who, but it must have been someone important because now almost everyone agrees failure is bad.  But most people can’t tell you why.  Just simply because it isn’t success.  But what if we stopped thinking that?  What if we strived to do our best for the sake of doing our best and not for the sake of succeeding?  What if we tried things and didn’t worry about the outcome?   
Yes, of course, there are times when success really matters.  I hope that my surgeon and my banker and my veterinarian are all very successful.  But does it really matter if you don’t pass a test when you are allowed to retake the test as many times as you want?  No.  Not really.  Does it really matter if you lose at bar trivia or at a pick-up basketball game?  Does it really matter if you look stupid when you dance?  No, none of that matters.  Go try something new.  If you fail at it, that’s okay.  If you don’t learn anything when you fail at it, that’s okay, too.  You can pick yourself up and try again or you can just move on to something else.   

Stop Hiding: How Denying ADHD is Hurting Your Child and Everyone Else

I have been working with a student for a couple months whose stated goal is to get straight As.  In pursuit of that, she and I meet 4 or 5 times a week and do two-hour sessions of body doubling.  Since we’ve been doing this, she has caught up on all of her past due assignments and has gotten to and is maintaining an A average.  I’m really proud of her.   
As I am setting up my business, I am working on my blog and website and various other marketing stuff that I can’t stand, but, you know, you gotta do what you gotta do.  So, I asked the mother of this student if she would be willing to write a review for me.  The mother responded that she would be happy to do that, but that she didn’t want anyone to know that her daughter has ADHD and is getting help, so could she please write her review anonymously.  I responded that, of course, I understand and that all my reviews have only a first name and a location.   
But that was a lie.  Not the part about using just a first name and location.  That’s the truth.  The lie was that I understood.  I don’t.  I don’t understand even a little bit. 
Okay, a little bit.  I understand that the mother is trying to shield her daughter from the stigma and discrimination that she imagines her daughter will face if there is an ADHD label.  What I don’t understand is why she thinks that is a good or necessary thing to do.  I’m not going to say that there isn’t a stigma against having ADHD.  There is.  Announcing that you have ADHD can make life difficult in school, work, and social situations.  Some people think of ADHD as a behavioral issue or a lack of character.  Some people.  But is the stigma greater than or less than everyone thinking that.  Because some people know that ADHD is real and they understand that there is a real struggle going on.  Without that ADHD diagnosis, there is no reason for people to see the symptoms of ADHD as anything besides personal choice.  And worse yet, so will the person who has ADHD. 

The only way hiding ADHD will work to reduce the amount of stigma a person faces is for that person to then pretend to be “normal.”  So, not only does this person have to fight through their ADHD and pretend to be something they aren’t, they have to do that without help and without the support of those who understand.  Every symptom is now seen as a shortcoming by those around them.  And that will be internalized.  How could it not be? 
Hiding a disability, any disability, puts an unreasonable amount of pressure on the person hiding.  And shame.  We don’t hide things that aren’t shameful.  Why would we?  The mere act of denying ADHD creates the stigma that one is trying to avoid.  It proves to the person who is suffering that what is happening to them is their own fault and something that set them apart.  When we ask our children to hide who they are, we are telling them to hate themselves.  We are telling them that their core nature is unacceptable and won’t be tolerated.  We are telling society that we agree that ADHD is a character flaw. I am imploring all parents out there, out your children; out yourself.  When we are open and honest, we create an environment where discussions can be had and help can be gotten.  Teach your child that it is acceptable to be different.  Because if you don’t actively do that then you are actively teaching them that they are not acceptable. 

Blowing Sunshine: Why Realism and Honesty Matter When Talking About ADHD

 I’m going to go out on a limb here.  I’m about to buy myself a world of trouble.  Here goes: 

ADHD is NOT a superpower. 

Yeah, I know, right?!?!?  This sounds really weird coming from an ADHD coach, from a self-proclaimed “giant bouncy ball of sunshine,” from someone whose wardrobe consists of a few pairs of jeans and dozens of positive message tee-shirts.  But this is so important.  It is beyond belief important that we not go around blowing sunshine up our own asses.  This toxic positivity has to stop.  It’s hurting people.  
Superpowers make your life easier.  ADHD is a neurological condition and it makes your life harder.  Don’t get me wrong… that doesn’t mean it can’t make your life better.  It absolutely can.  But better is not the same as easier.  In order for ADHD to make your life better, you do have to do some hard work.  Calling ADHD a superpower belittles that hard work.  It minimizes the everyday struggle that people with ADHD go through.  It trivializes achievements, big and small.  And we don’t want to do that.  There is a voice in the back of the ADHD mind that does that for us.  That voice tells us that what we do is beneath recognition, is too simple to be celebrated, is just the bare minimum and that’s not good enough.  We really don’t need to add to that voice.  If we had superpowers then getting through the day should be simple, creating a successful and happy life should take little to no effort.  But getting through the day is hard and creating a life, any life, is an overwhelming task. 
Calling ADHD a superpower dismisses the pain it causes and the lives it devastates.  Just look at these statistics: 

People with ADHD are fighting to get through the day and they’re being told how they have superpowers.  How is that going to make you feel?  Not good.  Not successful.  Not happy.  It puts an extreme amount of pressure on you.  Pressure you don’t need from the outside because you get enough of that from the inside.  If you had superpowers, life would be easy (except when you are called upon to save NYC from aliens; you had other plans) and life isn’t easy.  It’s okay to acknowledge that.  It’s okay to call ADHD what it is. 
ADHD is a DISABILITY. 

I know… I just said a nasty thing.  I’m going to get hate mail.  I know I will because I have before.  But I stand by the statement because it is a simple fact.  It is not an opinion.  It is not a metaphor.  It is not hyperbole.  ADHD is a neurological condition that impairs function.  That is a disability.  It should be treated like one.  You need help.  And that’s okay!  Calling ADHD a superpower stops people from getting the help they need because they think it’s not okay.  They think they shouldn’t need help.  Afterall, they have superpowers, why would they need help?   People feel as if they should be able to handle everything life throws at them and are devastated when they can’t.  That devastation can lead to depression, self-loathing, and even suicide. 
And, frankly, it’s a little disrespectful to people with other disabilities.  Okay, it’s way disrespectful.  Beyond the pale.  It doesn’t reduce stigma; it shifts it.  Basically, to deny that ADHD is a disability is to say that you don’t want yourself or someone you love to be put into a category with “those people.”  As if there’s something shameful about having a disability.  It announces that having a disability is something that is embarrassing and disgraceful.  Something that shouldn’t be talked about in polite company.   
So, let’s just stop it.  Let’s stop trying to make ADHD pretty.  It isn’t.  It’s painful and stressful and difficult to live with.  Let’s be honest.  Because when we are honest, we open the door to support and help.  When we are truthful, we take some of the pressure off.  When we are realistic, we can look at the positives and find joy in them.  If we stop trying to blow sunshine, we can find the actual light. 

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