Reframing ADHD: Lessons in parenting, self-advocacy, and letting go of the "one right way"

When I invited Becca Chambers onto Work in Progress, I knew we were going to have a powerful conversation. What I didn’t know is that it would feel like a personal therapy session—one that not only helped me better understand my son’s ADHD, but also made me rethink the way I see success, learning, and even myself.

Becca is a tech exec, mom, and advocate for neurodiversity who was diagnosed with ADHD in her twenties. But her story isn’t just about a diagnosis, it’s about learning to work with her brain, not against it. And helping her kids do the same.

Here are a few of the takeaways I can’t stop thinking about:

1. ADHD isn’t just about focus. It’s about effort, energy, and constant self-correction.

Becca said something that stopped me in my tracks:

“Kids who are neurodivergent are working five times harder than a neurotypical kid to do the exact same thing.”

And yet,they’re more often than not the ones being corrected, redirected, or misunderstood.

I’ve seen this with my own son. Brilliant, capable, so full of insight, but sometimes struggling in an environment not designed for how his brain works. Becca’s reminder was simple but profound: We need to stop treating differences like deficits. ADHD isn’t laziness. It’s exhaustion from trying to fit into a system that wasn't built with you in mind.

2. Surviving school is not the same as thriving in life.

Becca talked about her own childhood—being labeled as oppositional, disruptive, or just not trying hard enough. But as she pointed out:

“Being the best in the class isn’t going to dictate your future career.”

Yes, yes, and yes.

So many of us grew up equating performance in school with our potential. But what happens when your brilliance doesn’t fit into multiple choice questions and timed math tests? That doesn’t make you less intelligent. It just means the system isn’t seeing you clearly.

Becca tells her son what she wishes someone had told her:

“Once you get to choose what you work on, you’re going to be better than everyone else at it.”

That reframe is everything.

3. Advocacy starts at home—with honesty, flexibility, and letting go of perfection.

One of my favorite parts of our conversation was when Becca shared how her fifth grader uses a mood board to advocate for how he’s feeling, without needing words. That visual cue gives him autonomy and creates a bridge for connection especially with her neurotypical husband, even in tough moments.

She also spoke candidly about how being married to a neurotypical partner has helped them both grow. They had to reframe their way of parenting. Not trying to “fix” their son, but understanding that what he needs isn’t always what makes sense to them.

“Your expectations of your children can’t be what you want them to be. It’s what they are.”

Whew.

I’m still sitting with that.

4. Your brain is not broken. And you don’t need to do everything like everyone else.

Becca said it best: 

“Work with your brain. Not against it.”

Becca reminded me (and hopefully reminds you) that there is no one right way to be productive, talented, successful, or even just okay.

She doesn’t go to the gym in the morning. She can’t fall asleep before 2 a.m. She needs to outsource the parts of life that drain her, so she can give her energy to the things that matter most.

And guess what? That’s not a flaw. It’s a strategy.

5. ADHD is not a weakness. It’s a different wiring—with its own power.

Becca put it best:

“Now that I understand my brain and how to work with it instead of trying to be like everybody else... I wouldn’t give up my ADHD.”

ADHD gives her creativity, innovation, empathy, hyperfocus when it counts, and a way of seeing the world that allows her to lead in her work, her home, and her advocacy.

And as she shared, many ADHDers are more likely to start businesses, to solve problems creatively, to look beyond what’s been done before. That’s not a liability. It’s a gift.

This conversation changed me.

Not in the “aha, now I know what to do” kind of way, but in the gentler, deeper kind of way. 

I’m learning, slowly, to let go of the pressure to parent (and lead, and live) like other people do. To stop assuming everyone else has it figured out. To stop holding myself or my children to standards that don’t reflect who we really are.

So if you’ve ever felt like you or your child don’t quite fit into the systems that were built around you, this one’s for you.

You’re not alone. You’re not broken. And you’re not behind.

We’re all a work in progress. And that’s exactly where we’re meant to be.

Much love,

Gayle