“When Do I Tell a New Boyfriend about My ADHD?”
Like everyone else with a diagnosis, I want the impossible: I donāt want to disclose my ADHD at all.
Every relationship has its questions of timing: How many dates do you go on before sex? When should you allow your date to pick up the check? How early is too early to tell him you have ADHD?
That last one isnāt a question for every new relationship. But it is for mine. The answer is usually: when something goes wrong.
Donāt get me wrongĀ ā I love having attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. Just like being smart or having a sense of humor, ADHD is a positive character trait that makes me who I am. But the men Iāve dated havenāt always understood how ADHD can affect someone. Before going out with me, a lot of them didnāt know what it was.
Attention deficit is a neurological condition caused by underproduction of dopamine and norepinephrine, neurotransmitters that regulate focus. As a condition, itās poorly named. People with ADHD donāt pay less attention; we pay more. Because our minds lack the chemical chops to screen out unneeded stimuli, weāre constantly flooded by everything that surrounds us.
This means that on a date I wonāt just notice you; Iāll notice everything around you: the straw sticking out of our waiterās smock pocket, a flickering bulb in the light fixture, the wrinkles on the tablecloth. No matter how much I want to, I canāt turn off the flood of stimuli and notice only you.
[āIām Not Hiding My ADHD Anymoreā]
Unless you know this, itās easy to think Iām not listening. Take Butch, for example, a guy I went out with in my 20s. We had a good time, butĀ after the first date, he never called. When a friend asked why, he said: āI didnāt think she liked me.ā Butch, if youāre reading, I get it: I didnāt focus on anything you said all night. I did like you, though. Should I have told you I have ADHD?
I think I made the right call by not telling him. By nature, dating is a long process of giving up your secrets, trading them one at a time for intimacy. When your secret is that youāre missing neurotransmitters in the brain, tellingĀ someoneĀ that on the first date is too early.
So is a third date, which I once asked a man to reschedule because Iād double-booked him with a doctorās appointment for my ADHD. When I called to explain, the guy asked if it hurt.
āWhat do you mean, does it hurt?ā I said.
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āI donāt know. Does the doctor hook you up to anything?ā
No, Man-I-Never-Went-Out-With-Again, asking your doctor to write a monthly prescription for Ritalin does not require electroshock. Instead, my psychiatrist asks if my relationships are OK, if Iām focusing better, if my dosage still seems right.
For the record, if you do require electroshock, itās nothing to be ashamed of. Neither is ADHD. Attention deficit is not a mental illness; itās a neurological disorder. I take medicine that replicates neurotransmitters so I can focus, just as an amputee uses a prosthetic to walk.
But because people with ADHD do need those neurotransmitters so badly, itās easy to assume we canāt function without meds. One boyfriend became obsessed with whether Iād taken mine. Every time I said something halfway quirky, heād ask: āDid you take your medicine today?ā
To his credit, he asked because he cared and never in a judgmental way. But I still cringed at the question every time. It hurts to have the person you love play parent; it hurts even more to know he needs to.
The night I told him I had attention deficit, weād been dating a year. And, yes, something had goneĀ wrong. We were arguing in a hotel barĀ ā loud music, eavesdropping bartender, a wedding reception in the lobby. Over his shoulder, I could see the flower girl walking in circles, dress ribbon trailing behind. The bartender leaned in, the girl tripped, and I couldnāt fight the stimuli and him. I asked if we could finish our conversation in the room, and when he said, āNo, weāll finish it here,ā I erupted.
Iād been off medication for two years, but I went back on. A year together proved that man loved me with or without a pill; I loved myself enough to never want to be that overloaded again. So for months, yes, he kept asking if Iād taken my pill, and even though I hated hearing the question, I did not blame him for asking. He didnāt want me that overwhelmed again, either.
I used to wonder how that fight would have gone if heād known about my ADHD beforehand. When I asked to leave the bar, he didnāt know I was overloaded; he thought I was trying to avoid the conversation. After a year together, Iād already given him most of my secrets. Why did I hold back that one?
Like everyone else with a diagnosis, I want the impossible: I donāt want to disclose my ADHD at all. I never tell men Iām funny; they just laugh at my jokes. I donāt tell them Iām smart; they just know. I donāt want attention deficit to outweigh or outrank the other parts of me.
When things did end with the guy from the hotel bar, my doctor was almost as sad as I was. For electroshock guy, he recommended I read You Mean Iām Not Lazy, Stupid or Crazy?!, a self-help book for adults with ADHD. He also said a man who assumes I need nodes hooked up to my brain on the regular probably isnāt who I want to be with in the long run.
The guy I do want to be with is the same guy any woman wants, really: someone who gets me. Rather than disclose my diagnosis, Iād prefer to say, āIām just meā and hear him whisper, āOK.ā
[Online-Dating Tips for Adults with ADHD]
This piece originally appeared on washingtonpost.com.
