“She has so much potential – if only she applied herself.”
Growing up, I heard this phrase regularly. A parent-teacher meeting would rarely end without least one teacher commenting on my “unreached potential”.
It wasn’t that I didn’t care – I was trying. But my brain worked differently.
I’d get lost in thought during class, jump between ten different ideas while doing homework, and almost always be the kid sprinting to class just as the bell rang. Sitting still was never my strength, so naturally, family and friends – particularly aunties – never failed to point this out, as if my restlessness meant that something was wrong with me. And back then, I believed that there was. Everyone else seemed to sit still and focus so effortlessly. So why couldn’t I?

What I Know Now?
ADHD doesn’t mean lazy, careless, or incapable. It means my brain processes things differently, and for a long time, I didn’t have the language to explain that – especially in a culture where “just try harder” is seen as the solution to everything.
South Asian families often misunderstand ADHD because we’re raised to value discipline, long study hours, and academic achievement. But a brain wired for ADHD isn’t “bad” – it just needs different strategies, not shame.

Why This Conversation Matters?
Culturally adapted mental health care can help bridge this gap. A therapist who understands why being late might lead to lectures at every family dawat, why shaking your leg and being forgetful is seen as a sign of disrespect, can help untangle years of guilt and self-doubt.
If you’ve grown up feeling “too much” or “not enough,” know this: you’re not broken. Your brain isn’t failing you – it’s just asking for a different kind of care.