Fiona
I was diagnosed with autism first, and ADHD many years later.
The contrast in how people respond to those two words has been eye-opening.
When I mention autism, people are curious. They ask questions, they want to understand. When I mention ADHD, the reaction shifts — suddenly it’s about effort, parenting, or self-control. The empathy disappears, replaced by quiet judgment.
Both diagnoses come with stigma, but they’re not treated equally. Autism has entered the public conversation in a way that ADHD simply hasn’t. I’ve found I’m much more comfortable disclosing my autism than my ADHD — not because I’m ashamed, but because one has been met with compassion, while the other is still dismissed as a character flaw.
Even within discussions of neurodiversity, ADHD is often overlooked. The term is used to signal inclusion, but the reality is more selective. Too often, ADHD is erased — as though it’s the inconvenient cousin in the neurodivergent family. I only really noticed this imbalance after my own ADHD diagnosis.
Australia has started to treat ADHD as a serious policy issue, through national strategies and inquiry processes. I’d like to believe Aotearoa New Zealand will follow suit — not out of pressure, but out of principle. This isn’t just a health issue; it’s a human rights issue.
We need a public inquiry — a space where stories can be told, patterns recognised, and long-term plans made.
Nothing about us without us.
It’s time to bring ADHD into the light, alongside every other part of neurodiversity that deserves to be seen and understood.