The ADHD Series
- lailaelkcoaching
- Apr 28
- 5 min read
Updated: May 6
Hey YOU. Yes, you: The brilliant, slightly chaotic, idea-generating machine who just opened this blog while halfway through a text, holding a cold coffee, and thinking about replying to that email from 6 days ago.

Welcome home.
This is the start of a brand new blog series all about ADHD and the creative brain, and I promise to keep it short, fun, and to the point - because I know exactly how long you’ve got before a new idea hijacks your attention (about 3.7 minutes, right?).
To be clear from the offset: Not all creatives have ADHD.
But, there is a lot of overlap in their preferences and behaviour. Creative brains and ADHD brains both thrive in abstract thinking and big vision. They’re fast, often emotional, high-concept thinkers who can struggle with the day-to-day stuff that’s “supposed to be easy,” but can feel debilitating.
My Story with ADHD

I’ve always had what I now like to think of as a Ferrari brain with bicycle brakes.
At school, I was smart- top sets in every subject, identified as one of those ‘gifted and talented students’, juggling a million extracurriculars, always busy doing something. My head teacher once told me I only had to work a quarter as hard as everyone else to get the same results. (Challenge accepted?).
BUT I was also constantly in trouble. I talked too much, distracted anyone and everyone else in the room, forgot - or let’s be honest, ignored - instructions seconds after hearing them, and pushed every boundary in sight. I wasn’t trying to be naughty - I just couldn’t seem to do things the “normal” way, even if I really wanted to.
High functioning and low functioning, in perfect, untamed harmony.
I could come up with creative ideas or competition-winning strategies in an instant. No warm-up, no prep, just fully-formed brilliance, not dissimilar to a vending machine. But ask me to fill out a form, rewrite an essay, or “show your working”? No chance.
I was that student that teachers didn’t know whether to give a gold star or a detention slip to. Usually, it was both.
Honestly, not much has changed, apart from maybe some greater awareness of how I’m wired and what I need to function well.
Here’s a look at The Realities of Living with My Brain…
Overstimulation is just one ‘big feeling’ away, closely followed by the derailing of my to do list. I feel emotions deeply and strongly, and when they tip into overstimulation, it’s a sure sign that anything else on my radar is no longer getting my full attention. For ADHD and creative brains, re-regulating can be an all consuming and exhausting task.
I have 99 ideas, but replying to your text is absolutely not one of them. My brain thrives on big ideas and creating solutions to any problem presented to me, and in record time. Sadly, this speed doesn’t extend to seemingly easy and mundane tasks, which can take weeks to muster the energy for.
My brain ideates all day… with enough momentum to complete…80% of each idea. But that final 20%? Definitely not. Every ADHDer has that secret cupboard full of dusty equipment from short-lived hobbies and half-written business plans. The ideas are endless, but levels of completion? Close to zero. I hear this from creative clients all the time: “I’ve had the same ideas for years and I’m no closer to them.” While it might seem endearing to others, the shame of those unfinished projects and unlaunched businesses can cripple an ADHDer, leading us to lose trust not only with others, but with ourselves.
Time is fake, and so is the timeline I assign myself to complete a task. You’ve probably heard all about ADHDer’s being timeblind. But this one is nuanced. I do lose track of time and I’m totally optimistic about how long something will take. But keep in mind my Ferrari brain with bicycle brakes- some tasks really do take me a quarter of the time they’d take others, whilst others ten times as long. This means not only can I not trust the expected neurotypical timeline, but I rely on my gut to calculate time for me. Sometimes I’m lucky and it all works out, sometimes I’m full of anxiety at showing up 45 minutes late.
You’ve gotta sell me on an idea. I don’t do things “just because.” Call me a dopamine addict, the ADHD brains thrive on motivation. Unless I have a ‘why’, If we don’t feel a personal connection to something, it’s a no-go. That’s why it’s so important to frame projects, goals, or tasks in a way that clicks with your inner drive, not just someone else’s agenda. This might sound like extra work, but spend 10 minutes buying me in to a task and I’ll be your greatest asset.
I skip steps when I explain things. Step 1... and Step 5. You get it, right? My brain moves quickly, but I often forget to bring others along for the ride. It’s a classic ADHD trait - my mind jumps to the conclusion without walking people through the process. The blank stares in meeting rooms are all too familiar. Learning to slow down and communicate the steps clearly can be a game-changer in collaboration.
Group instructions? Not for me. There’s something about how I’m wired that makes me think instructions for a group are meant for everyone but me. The bigger the group, the less I feel responsible to listen. And while we’re on instructions, 'one-at-a-time' really helps with that overwhelm we talked about.
Don’t tell me what to do. Especially when I didn’t ask. Traditional advice doesn’t work for ADHD brains. Generic solutions? We’ve tried it, we didn’t like it. The ADHD brain gets really good at finding its own solutions, because it’s had to. But when you tell me what to do, it can feel like you’re taking away my autonomy, like I’m somehow incapable of figuring things out on my own. I don’t need more advice, I need empowerment. I need space to think through my options and come up with my own unique solution, without judgment.
This is why coaching works. It’s personalised, focused on what actually works for you, not a one-size-fits-all solution that ignores how your brain works.

Coaching Took Me From Manic to Functional, Free and Empowered.
When people ask why I coach creatives and entrepreneurs- especially neurodivergent ones- it’s because I see the brilliance and I also know how hard it is to feel like you’re constantly letting yourself down. The truth is that the world just hasn’t yet been set up for your kind of genius.
Coaching helped me bridge that gap.
Not by handing me some 10-step morning routine or forcing me into systems that never worked- but by helping me understand what actually does work for me, figuring out what’s important, what I care about, and what doesn’t matter. One of the core principles of coaching is that if something truly matters to you, there are always multiple ways to get there.
Coaching helped me stop treating myself like a broken version of someone else and start building rhythms that actually match how I naturally operate. It’s collaborative, creative, flexible, and rooted in curiosity. It empowers your brain to lead, relying on the truth that you already have everything you need to chart your own course.
We’ve barely scratched the surface here.
There’s so much more to explore in the ADHD brain: emotion regulation, working through shame cycles, and practical tools to elevate your day-to-day. We’ll get there, but for now, your other 96 tabs are waiting. So whether you’ve got a formal ADHD diagnosis, a strong suspicion, or you just really identify with "Overwhelmed but nailing it", stick around.
With love and snacks,
Laila x



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