Reclaiming the Swan Within: Rediscovering Identity, Potential, With Late Diagnosed ADHD

“It is never too late to be what you might have been.” — George Eliot

Many of us have grown up feeling like misfits, trying to find our place in a world shaped mainly by neurotypical norms. For me, this sense of “not fitting” culminated in an unexpected realisation. When I was diagnosed with ADHD in my 70s. Suddenly, what I had long viewed as personal shortcomings—procrastination, distractibility, and disorganisation—made sense as natural expressions of a neurodivergent mind. The most impactful challenge I’ve come to recognise is the core ADHD difficulty with executive function. Particularly around working memory. This has led to countless moments of forgetting or misplacing my own creations, only to rediscover them years later.

In this season of my life, I am embarking on a journey of reclaiming these forgotten or half-finished writings. I lost parts of myself, so to speak. And bringing them to completion. With the aid of emerging technology, virtual assistants, and my own renewed self-understanding, I’m determined to publish the books and courses I once set aside. I hope to complete at least 20 titles by my 80th birthday next year, turning what was once a limitation into a source of creative abundance.

The Ugly Duckling and the Eagle in the Farmyard

Most of us are familiar with Hans Christian Andersen’s The Ugly Duckling, in which a bird mocked for its awkwardness grows into a graceful swan. Another familiar story is that of an eagle raised among turkeys in a farmyard, unaware it was meant to soar. These timeless stories resonate deeply when we discover that our perceived “shortcomings” or “strangeness” might indicate a mind that processes the world differently.

For me, living in a neurotypical world without knowing I had ADHD was like being that eagle pecking away in the barnyard. My executive functioning challenges—significantly working memory—made it incredibly difficult to keep track of what I was doing or planning. I would have flashes of brilliance, bursts of enthusiasm, and then poof—it would slip from my conscious focus. Lost in the chaotic swirl of to-dos, sticky notes, and mental clutter.

Mythological and Spiritual Echoes

“We must be willing to get rid of the life we’ve planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us.” — Joseph Campbell

Ancient myths and spiritual narratives often serve as mirrors to our human experience.

In the Christian narrative, we see a descent into darkness (the crucifixion), followed by redemption and the freeing of prisoners. Similarly, discovering ADHD late in life can feel like emerging from a dark, confusing place into a space of liberation and self-compassion.
Shamanic soul retrieval resonates with my experience of stumbling upon old manuscripts, notes, and outlines I had entirely forgotten. Retrieving these “lost parts” of my creative self feels akin to retrieving soul fragments left behind during my life’s journey.
Hero’s journey: Joseph Campbell’s blueprint of leaving the familiar, facing trials, and returning with transformative wisdom offers a powerful analogy. My “call to adventure” arrived with my ADHD diagnosis, spurring me to re-examine who I am and what I can still accomplish.

The Roads Not Taken—and Rediscovered

“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less travelled by,
And that has made all the difference.”
— Robert Frost

Throughout my life, I’ve started countless projects—books, articles, courses—only to find them buried under years of distraction and executive functioning challenges. My working memory issues meant I’d often move on to something new, forgetting to circle back and finish what I’d begun. These incomplete works became roads not taken, or at least not fully traversed.

As I revisit these creative endeavours, I’m struck by two overwhelming emotions: regret at having let them languish and excitement at the possibilities they still hold. It’s almost as if I’ve stepped into a different timeline, retrieving neglected manuscripts like dusty antiques from an attic. In reclaiming them, I realised they were never truly lost—just waiting for me to be ready and equipped to complete them.

“Regenopause”: A Season of Regeneration

The later years of life are often portrayed as a winding-down period. Yet I have come to see them as a “regenopause”—a phase of regeneration and renewal. It’s a chance to focus on the creative energy that may have been sidelined by career obligations, family responsibilities, and, yes, the hidden challenges of neurodiversity. Here’s how I’m breathing life into this concept:

Embracing Technology: With AI and virtual assistants, I can now efficiently organise my thoughts, find old drafts, and streamline my workflows. This extra support acts as a buffer against working memory lapses.
Establishing Systems: I now use digital tools to catalogue my writing, set reminders, and track progress, which I struggled with in the past. These systems help compensate for executive function pitfalls, allowing me to keep multiple projects alive and well.
Allowing for Creativity: Rather than forcing myself into rigid schedules that conflict with my neurodivergent brain, I allow bursts of creativity to emerge naturally. Structure exists, but it’s flexible and supportive.
Connection & Collaboration: Sharing my journey with others who’ve struggled similarly has led to collaborative projects. We help each other stay on task and provide feedback that fosters growth and completion.

Working Memory: The Hidden Linchpin of ADHD

“If you can’t remember it, you can’t manage it.” — Unknown

While ADHD is commonly understood to involve distractibility and hyperactivity, many people fail to realise how central working memory deficits can be. Working memory allows us to hold information in our mind while we manipulate or transform it. When it falters, everyday tasks—like recalling a plan you made just an hour ago—become overwhelming.

Lost Projects: My entire life’s tapestry has been woven with projects left mid-flight. Now that I know the ‘why,’ I can better address the ‘how’ of finishing them.
Daily Routines: Recognizing my working memory weaknesses has led me to develop supportive habits, such as writing tasks down immediately and reviewing them often.
Mindful Living: Understanding that my memory can betray me forces me to be more present. I double-check my steps, mentally rehearse upcoming tasks, and use “scaffolding” strategies to support planning and organisation.

Rediscovering and Completing My Legacy with ADHD

An especially rewarding outcome of my ADHD diagnosis is the chance to realize my life’s work. I’ve amassed a treasury of manuscripts, outlines, and sketches—some nearly complete, others just sparks of ideas. Now, with renewed clarity and the right strategies, I’m methodically revisiting each piece, polishing it, and preparing it for publication.

My goal? I aim to publish at least 20 books by my 80th birthday next year.

This ambitious target serves as a beacon. It reminds me daily that my older age is not a liability but a vantage point. I stand on decades of lived experience, perspective, and authenticity. Each book will carry the imprints of those experiences. And the hard-won insights of living most of my life with undiagnosed ADHD.

Integration: Bringing It All Together

“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” — Anaïs Nin.

To truly integrate this self-understanding, I have to apply it in real, tangible ways. I can’t simply acknowledge that ADHD impacted my life; I must live differently. This means I am constantly:

Emphasising Self-Compassion: I allow myself grace when old habits surface. I remind myself that decades of masking and misunderstanding don’t vanish overnight.
Celebrating Progress: Each rediscovered manuscript, each completed chapter, is a victory. I’ve learned to savour these milestones.
Leveraging Support Systems: Friends, family, writing partners and virtual assistants keep me accountable and remind me of my deadlines, ideas, and priorities.
Adapting Continually: My strategies for task management and creative flow remain dynamic. I shift them as needed, accepting that what works today might need tweaking tomorrow.

A Journey Toward Wholeness as an ADHD-er

“We are not human beings having a spiritual experience; we are spiritual beings having a human experience.” — Pierre Teilhard de Chardin.

Whether you call it soul retrieval, redemption, or self-actualisation, the essence is the same. We are here to become more of who we already are. Realising I have ADHD has allowed me to see that the “ugly duckling” was never ugly at all. It was just misunderstood. The eagle’s wings were always designed for flight; it only needed the right environment to realise it could soar.

Practical Steps on the Path

Harness AI and Automation: Technology can serve as an “external brain,” helping to mitigate working memory deficits.
Organise Old Drafts: Compile every stray file, notebook, and flash drive into a central repository where you can systematically review them.
Set Clear Goals: Whether you have 20 books by the age of 80 or have finished a single short story, a target fuels motivation.
Find Allies: Build relationships with editors, writing groups, and ADHD support communities. Accountability partners can be game changers.
Revisit and Revise: Don’t be afraid to reshape past ideas. Your older self often brings richer insights to older drafts.

Embracing the Future: Wings Unfurled

Discovering neurodiversity late in life creates a beautiful synergy. It brings clarity and direction at precisely the moment many might feel their options narrowing. I see it instead as a grand opening of new possibilities. A time to unleash dormant dreams and half-realized creations into the world.

I invite you to celebrate this “regenopause”. A period of creative rebirth and personal reclamation. Whether you’re neurodivergent, neurotypical, or somewhere in between, may you find the courage and tools to rediscover your hidden treasures, integrate them into your life’s tapestry. And share them with the world.

“It is never too late, in fiction or in life, to revise.” — Nancy Thayer

Thank you for reading and for being part of this unfolding journey. May we all learn to embrace our swan-like nature, eagle wings, and boundless potential—no matter where we are on our timelines.

You can purchase my book Navigating Love & ADHD here

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