When Reading isn't "Enough"

Before I knew the word for "impostor syndome," it plagued me. Before I had my ADHD diagnosis, it did the same. Only now am I realizing how intertwined the two are.

When I was a little girl, reading and writing were my escapes. These escapes became indulgences that were fewer and further apart as I grew older. I couldn't keep up with my daily life. I didn't have the ability to indulge.

I alienated myself from the "reader" identity I'd adopted at age six. I believed that I no longer qualified as a "real" reader. That feeling spread to all my other interests as ADHD and chronic illness took more of my life. I felt like a shell of who I once was; I had no identity because I had nothing to bring me joy.

Now that I have my diagnosis, I am relearning how to enjoy things in ways that my brain can process. One of the hardest lessons I've had to learn is that it is okay to put a book down. Many books interest me, but few keep my interest to the end. I have realized that this does not make me a "bad" reader. It means that I am open to exploring all sorts of books, but capable of knowing when I am not having fun. If I have to force my brain to comb through the same paragraph as my thoughts wander, then it's okay to put it down. It's okay not to like a book. It's okay to acknowledge that someone worked hard to create the art but that the art is not for you... for now. That isn't a slight against anyone's writing, and your brain isn't "lesser than" for refusing to follow along.

Despite the attempts of accepting my brain, I still often feel like an impostor. A "real" reader, even with ADHD, would be able to enjoy more books. Someone with ADHD would be able to finish the manuscripts they toil over if they had the talent to write well. These are the things I find my brain whispering to itself. I lie to myself daily in ways I would never speak to someone else.

People with ADHD often internalize feelings of failure at higher levels than neurotypicals. That experience fits me like a glove. Two months before turning thirty, I am relearning how to read. I am relearning how to enjoy myself. I am trying to approach my brain from a curious standpoint rather than a judgemental one. I have been measuring myself by a yardstick meant for people built differently than me. It took 29 years to realize that it was the wrong measurement.

I am happy to say that I'm currently reading a book that I enjoy. Not just enjoy: I love this book. It is outside the scope of what I gravitate toward and delightfully refreshing. I started the book today on my lunch break and go through 100 pages within that lunch break. I can enjoy the power of my hyperfixation as I read the dialogue with ease. ADHD can be a super power, if only I let myself embrace my interests as they present themselves rather than attempting to measure my worth with them.