Renaming ADHD

April 29, 2026

Lately I have been giving a lot of thought to the names of things – psychological concepts in particular, and the manner in which those names and terms cause me to have sudden irritation or ugher (ugh + anger = ugher), or to roll my eyes right out of my head when I hear them. I am currently in a chronic pain program and am repeating a lot of education pieces, things I have learned and read about at least half a dozen times. I’ve decided that I need a fresh perspective on some of these old frenemies, so I am trying to come up with new names for things like “Radical Acceptance” and “Self-Compassion”. Today, I had a big thought about ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder) during my group, and I have been composing this blog post in my head all day long. ADHD needs a new name, posthaste. 

I recently enrolled in a course to be a life coach (another term that makes me roll my eyes) for neurodivergent professionals. Partly because I am, myself, a neurodivergent professional, and partly because I figure it might come in handy one day to have the certification in my line of work. I also need to keep my brain busy while I am not going to my day job. The first unit of the course, “Foundations of Neurodiversity”, discusses at length the problematic nature of the deficit based models of the past, and the benefits of valuing different cognitive strengths and ways of being. Neurodiversity is a good thing. Like biodiversity, the world is richer for it. I am richer for it. I don’t wish that I were “normal” or “typical”. 

Today in my Active Pain Coping group we were discussing pacing, and how detrimental it can be to do nothing for lengths of time and then push through the pain and overdo it. I was talking about how I don’t want to do things differently because then it would mean that this is a reality I have to adapt to, and I have been railing against this for the better part of a decade, thought process being I need to get better, I need to get back to work, I need to get back to how I was before the accident… but that is not happening. Pacing is extremely difficult for me, as I have always been most productive when the hyperfocus hits and I can be productive for hours on end. “Harness the Hyperfocus” is one of my favourite sayings. It reminds me that when it hits, I can harness it. It helps me to get through the periods when I am paralyzed by task paralysis and almost makes the lows worth it, because the state of flow I enjoy when I am hyperfocused is deeply pleasurable. 

I do not have a deficit of attention. At all. I just can’t harness it on demand. I would argue that when averaged out over the course of a day, I am attending to things, deeply focussed, for as long as any of my neurotypical peers. Actually, some days I can’t seem to pay attention at all, so maybe it would need to be averaged out over a week, but it is still not a deficit. It is a difference. Hence my proposal to change the word “deficit” to “difference” in order to better reflect current thinking around strength based paradigms. Instead of Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, I firmly believe that it ought to be Attention Difference Hyperactivity Disorder. 

Many neurodivergents have suffered because the old guard was always trying to change them into neurotypicals. I see this in my work as a teacher all the time. It harms kids. It harms teenagers and young adults. It harms those of us who were diagnosed later in life. I would also argue that it harms neurotypicals, but that is a post for another day. 

I do not aspire to be neurotypical. I aspire to be the best human that I can be, someone who acts with kindness, integrity, and authenticity. I am told again and again that my chronic pain will get better once I accept my new reality and develop some self-compassion, but knowing what we do about the messages that ADHD kids get about themselves in school and being parented in a world where parents feel judged when their child is hyperactive does not set ADHD kids up for success. Not in school, nor in finding love, acceptance, or compassion for themselves. Calling it a deficit, and then trying to teach someone how to overcome said deficit when in reality it is a neurological difference requiring unique ways of teaching and learning is like telling someone with a broken leg to just try harder to walk on it and then telling them they just aren’t trying hard enough when it still hurts. I am an adult who was diagnosed at age 40, and the grief and rage I still feel ten years later knowing that I would not have been able to succeed in some areas just by trying harder is very real, because boy did I try, and boy did I hate myself for not being able to be like “everyone else”. 

Labels matter. They enable us to access services, programs, and accommodations when required. Words have power. They set the tone for the thing they describe, and it’s high time that we start teaching ADHD kids how to harness their attention and make the best use of it, rather than punishing them for a neurological difference that is well documented and can be seen in fMRI images. Attention Difference Hyperactivity Disorder is how I will be thinking of the ADHD acronym in my mind from now on, and I think it just might help me to find some self-compassion.