My younger cousin's recent engagement has sparked in me feeling of ADHD inadequacy and loneliness. Will I ever find a prince who can love me because of -- or in spite of -- my ADHD?
by Jane D.
My youngest cousin is getting married, at age 28.
She's known him for only a year, this was her first and only boyfriend, and now they are headed down the altar. She's been sneaky about it, never revealing to any family members that she had a beau before they went off to Europe together last winter. And then somewhere on the Twitter feed I read recently, "Oh we've been engaged for a while actually, but planning for next year, planning can be so overwhelming."
My emotions unraveled -- quickly. Almost as if in shock, my heart skipped a beat and my mind stopped functioning for a split second. And then came the long sigh and the ADHD self-pity, "It's not fair," I thought. "I am a good person, too. I deserve to have someone, too."
Of course, all of that was quickly followed by the self-blame: I've found love. I've had my chances at life-long happiness. And I've blown them. Or maybe my attention deficit disorder (ADHD) has ruined my relationships. Either way, reality sucks. This is the cousin who seems to have it all -- the perfect golden girl living an immigrant's success story. She moved to New York at young age, became a doctor, and now she's marrying one, too. She's known she wanted to be a doctor since age 1, she's super focused, and apparently she's never dated anyone until the One.
I've dated dozens of men, all of whom fizzled into one broken heart. Which leads me to this question: What's wrong with me? Will I ever find a partner who will love me because of -- or in spite of -- my ADHD? How can someone just stick a fishing rod into the waters for the first time and catch the big fish?
When I shared my juicy Twitter tidbit with my sister, who shoulders her own share of life's burdens (she is a double kidney transplant recipient turned motivational speaker), she was silent said, "Well good, good for them, they can be like royalty." In retrospect, her words were pretty funny. But the sadness remains as I watch one more person march on with life, love, and happiness while I try to untangle the great mess of me.