1. Enhanced Storytelling Through Intentional Observation: Learning from skilled storytellers like stand-up comedians can offer valuable insights into structuring narratives, timing, and engagement techniques, emphasizing the importance of intentional observation and application in enhancing storytelling abilities.
2. The Value of Practicing in Supportive Environments: Emphasizing the significance of practicing storytelling in nurturing settings, where honest feedback and encouragement are available, helps build confidence and refine one’s storytelling craft, underlining the importance of safe spaces for growth.
3. Journaling and Note-Taking as Essential Tools: Utilizing journaling and meticulous note-taking as methods to manage the overwhelming flow of thoughts characteristic of ADHD, serving not only as aids in storytelling but also as instruments for self-reflection and documenting personal growth.
4. Mindfulness in Communication: The practice of mindfulness and intentional speaking, including pausing to organize thoughts and aligning narratives with personal truths, demonstrates a strategic approach to overcoming storytelling challenges, highlighting the shift from viewing ADHD as a hindrance to recognizing it as a unique perspective enriching storytelling.

Navigating the world with ADHD is like living in a constant state of juxtaposition—where your mind is both a canvas of endless creativity and a maze of distractions. For women like myself, this complexity is magnified by societal expectations that often don't account for the nuances of ADHD. Women are frequently expected to be organized, coherent, and emotionally intuitive communicators. These stereotypes can create additional pressure, making storytelling feel like scaling a mountain with no gear—intimidating and fraught with obstacles.

Storytelling is an art, a form of expression that's as old as time, used to connect, teach, entertain, and inspire. But when you add ADHD into the mix, along with a sprinkle of low self-esteem and self-consciousness, storytelling doesn’t just remain an art—it becomes a Herculean task. Early in my journey, sharing stories was like trying to paint a masterpiece with colors that kept changing. My narratives were scattered, focusing on the negatives or missing the big wins. Work self-evaluations became daunting, and answering simple questions like “How was your day?” felt like recounting an epic saga where I was losing the plot. Also, my excitement would send my thoughts racing ahead of my words, leading to a jumbled mess that left both me and my audience lost and confused and sometimes potentially offending someone. In moments of confusion or nervousness, my brain would freeze, and my words and body language would turn into an awkward dance of discomfort. It was clear: the way ADHD manifested for me—turning excitement into incoherence and anxiety into paralysis—was making storytelling an ordeal for everyone involved.

The turning point came from a place of deep vulnerability and a desire for change. I realized that my stories, however disjointed or imperfect, deserved to be heard. They were, after all, uniquely mine. This realization sparked a journey of transformation, not just in how I told stories but in how I viewed my ability to do so.

Watching with Intention

One of my first steps was to learn from the masters. Stand-up comedians became my unwitting mentors. Among the voices that guided me through the chaos were the brilliant comedians Dave Chapelle and Ali Wong. Their mastery of storytelling, with Dave's insightful social commentary and Ali's raw and relatable humor, showed me the power of intentionality in narrative. Their ability to weave stories, draw in their audience, and deliver their message with both precision and flair was mesmerizing. I watched them not just for entertainment, but with a keen eye on their structure, timing, and the way they highlighted their narratives. This was storytelling with intention. 

Practicing in Safe Spaces

Practice, as they say, makes perfect. But when you’re constantly second-guessing yourself, practice must be in a nurturing environment. I found this in the warmth of friends and family who offered me the stage to fumble, pause, and sometimes crash through my stories. Their grace and honest feedback were my safety nets and building blocks. In addition, despite the challenges, I never let an opportunity to practice pass me by. Whether at work, volunteering, or any public setting, I seized every chance to speak. This determination meant preparing meticulously, taking notes, reading from scripts, and embracing every "stage" as a chance to refine my craft. The aim was not just to participate but to discover what worked best for me.

Journaling and Note-Taking

ADHD can make your mind feel like a browser with too many tabs open, and trying to recall specific achievements or positive moments is daunting. Journaling and meticulous note-taking became my external hard drives. They allowed me to document my wins, daily encounters, and even the mundane, which I could later refer to. This habit didn’t just aid my storytelling; it became a tool for self-reflection and appreciation of my journey.

Mindfulness and Intentional Speaking

Perhaps the most significant change came from learning to pause—a simple yet profound act. Being mindful before responding allowed me to gather my thoughts, sift through the chaos, and choose what truly needed to be shared. It was about giving space to my stories and ensuring they aligned with my truths and aspirations. It was also a lesson in recognizing my strengths and weaknesses. I realized that preparation was key for me—whether crafting toasts for friends and family or preparing to share exciting news. Even in moments of spontaneous sharing, a brief moment of rehearsal in my head could make all the difference. This approach didn't just improve my storytelling; it reshaped my understanding of how to communicate my thoughts effectively.

Through these strategies, I’ve learned that storytelling with ADHD is not about overcoming a deficiency; it's about embracing a different way of seeing the world. Yes, our narratives might not always follow a straight line, but they are rich, vibrant, and deeply human. They are stories of resilience, creativity, and unexpected connections.

To my fellow women navigating storytelling with ADHD, know that your stories are worth telling. Embrace your unique voice, and remember, perfection is not the goal—authenticity is. Let’s turn our perceived weaknesses into our strengths, one story at a time. And, here’s to more sharing, learning, and growing together. Your story is just beginning.