Kelsey Brady
Creator
I’m a 29-year-old mom to a wonderfully wild 4-year-old, a late-diagnosed ADHDer (I finally got the memo at 27), and a card-carrying member of the “How Am I Even Functioning?” club.
By day, I wrangle cybersecurity threats and write tech policies with a master’s degree in cybersecurity and a bachelor’s in mathematics. By night, I’m juggling preschool snacks, impulsive side hustles, and the occasional existential crisis — all with a to-do list I definitely lost five times.
This blog is my space to be real. To talk about ADHD, motherhood, productivity (or lack thereof), and everything in between. Whether you’re a fellow neurodivergent woman trying to keep it together, a mom Googling “is it normal to forget the diaper bag twice in one day,” or someone who just likes a little chaos with their coffee — welcome.
We might be mostly functioning, but we’re doing it together.
My Journey with ADHD
For most of my life, I thought I was just lazy, distracted, or somehow broken. I was the classic “gifted kid” in middle school — praised for high test scores, quick thinking, and potential. But behind that label was a student who could barely sit through a lecture without zoning out, forgot every homework assignment, and scraped by on last-minute cramming. Despite struggling to keep up with schoolwork, my grades stayed decent thanks to high test scores, so no one ever looked closer. It wasn’t until I was 27, juggling a full-time job, motherhood, and grad school, that I finally heard the words: ADHD. Everything clicked — including why it took me an extra year to finish undergrad (because I literally just… didn’t go to class) and why I’d always felt like I was sprinting just to keep up with what seemed easy for everyone else.
Since my diagnosis, I’ve developed my own coping strategies — equal parts survival and creativity. I minimize distractions as much as possible (though the urge to open 12 tabs never fully leaves), and I’ve learned that multitasking isn’t about doing everything at once — it’s about always coming back to what I started. I’ve even been known to invite people over just to force myself to clean or finish long-procrastinated tasks. One of the biggest mindset shifts has been understanding that I wasn’t “bad at life” — I was trying to run a marathon in sandals while everyone else had sneakers. Being diagnosed late brought a mix of relief and grief. There’s still a lingering sting from years of invalidation, of being told I “just need to try harder” when I was already trying with everything I had. But now, I see the truth: I was never behind — I was just running a different kind of race.