Curious, Connected and Dressed for It: My ADHD Awareness Month

October is ADHD Awareness Month. This year I’m not here to lecture you. I’m here to meet you.

Nose down, tail up

This is what my walks look like at the moment. Conkers everywhere. Leaves ankle deep. A spotty little nose determined to investigate every single one of them. Stop. Sniff. Dart. Stop again. Completely absorbed, completely distracted, completely delighted.

If you’ve ever wondered where the name came from, there you go. Even the dog has ADHD.

And that’s the energy I want for October. Not a tidy march from A to B. A proper wander, nose down, finding treasure in the things everyone else walks straight past.

Stay curious

One of the first things I learned in my very first coaching training was to remain curious. It’s never left me. Curious about the person in front of me. Curious about my own brain. Curious about what’s really going on underneath the thing that looks like the problem.

It’s why I keep showing up in rooms full of other coaches. I’m a Neuro Directions coach, a member of the ICF, and soon to be on the ACO register. Each one is a place to meet peers, keep learning and keep growing. I don’t want to be the coach who stopped asking questions.

Clothes, not dinosaurs

That curiosity has taken me somewhere I didn’t expect in my own neurodivergent journey: disability. What it means. How people view it. And how quickly many of us step away from the word.

I see it all the time in the entrepreneurial world. So many neurodivergent traits in the room, and so many people who’d rather call themselves a creative.

I get it. People have assumed my whole life that I’m a creative and must work in the arts. I’m not. I’m a different thinker. And my autistic special interest is clothes. Not dinosaurs. Clothes. Exhibit A: the coat.

From isolation to connection

This year’s ADHD Awareness Month is all about moving from isolation to connection. Accurate information, lived experience, and understanding that leads to real support.

So what might that mean for you?

It might mean finally having words for something you’ve felt your whole life. It might mean realising the thing you’ve been ashamed of has a name, and other people have it too. It might mean one conversation where you don’t have to explain yourself from scratch.

Connection isn’t a crowd. Sometimes it’s one person who gets it.

What we’ll explore this October

Three threads. Understand it. Understand yourself. Understand each other.

Information: children, young people and education. What happens when school doesn’t fit, and what actually helps. Start with Natalie Hay on getting school support without an EHCP, and Helen Buzdugan on burnout, school struggles and ADHD in parents and children. Later this month you’ll meet another Natalie, who home educated her son. He’s now at mainstream college. A different route, not a dead end.

Lived experience: connection with yourself. Body, mind and emotions. Maddy Alexander-Grout on money and the ADHD tax. Stella Bell on when rejection feels like a threat. Caroline Thor on clutter and overwhelm at home. Angela Griffiths on sensory needs and intimacy.

Connection with others. Belonging, work and the people around us. Shari Teigman on late diagnosis, identity and entrepreneurship. Lucy Griffiths on why research into neurodivergent entrepreneurs matters. Marnie Wills on how AI is changing the way we think.

These conversations are evergreen. If you haven’t heard them yet, they’re waiting for you.

Community, on your terms

If you know me, you know my approach: do what you want. So what does that mean when it comes to community?

It doesn’t mean forcing yourself into a packed room because someone said connection is good for you. Many of us know how agoraphobic we can get. How burnt out. How much decompression time we need after even the good stuff.

Community can be a podcast in your ears on a dog walk. A message you send at midnight. One coffee instead of a conference. You get to choose how you connect, and how much.

The beautiful humans

One of my absolute favourite things about recording the podcast is the people I meet through it. Beautiful humans, every one of them.

The connection. The shared understanding. That moment, usually about ten minutes in, when we both relax because we realise we don’t need to translate.

So many of us had our diagnosis later in life. So many of us are raising neurodivergent children. We’re working it out for ourselves and for them at the same time. That’s a lot to carry alone. You don’t have to.

Heathrow for neurodivergence

My heart for Even The Dog Has ADHD is that it works like Heathrow. You arrive, take a breath, and find far more to explore than you imagined. It isn’t your final destination. It’s a place to start, and to come back to.

Whatever phase you’re in, I want you to find someone or something here that helps. Just starting to recognise yourself or your child. Early days after a diagnosis. Or stuck on the endless waiting list, wondering what to do in the meantime.

If that’s you, start here.

Now I want to meet you

Here’s the thing. Part of the reason for this season of the Journal is to get to know you.

You’ve heard my story and my guests’ stories. Now I want yours. Which phase are you in? What are you curious about? What would you love to hear on the podcast?

Tell me. Join the pack on Substack and hit reply. Book a call. Or if your story is itching to be told, apply to be a guest.

Nose down, tail up. Let’s see what we find this October.