I’ve known, admired, and respected Sari Solden for decades and wanted to let you know that she’s now on Substack with a dynamite newsletter called “The Inner Work of Adult ADHD.” It’s free and I strongly recommend you click on that link to sign up! Here’s a sample post of hers, along with an introductory note:
I am happy to share this post with Thom’s readers. Thom and I started out in the field of adult ADHD around the same time, many years ago, with the same publisher. He and I shared the same rebellious nature or free spirit in the field and broke some rules that brought about good change! So I feel a kindred spirit with Thom and marvel at how over thirty years later we are now at very different places in the world but both here on Substack still trying to change the world one reader at a time! I think this message of “A Letter from Your Brain” will appeal to all the neurodivergent women (and men) out there.
The message of accepting and embracing who you are, all of who you are, not trying to change or fix yourself in order to be meet some cultural expectation or norm is something Thom and I have both believed from the beginning. I have been a therapist for women and men with ADHD for over thirty years and the work I have done is centered on this kind of radical self-acceptance. I’d love to hear what you think.
With gratitude,
Sari
A Letter From Your Brain
(to Women With ADHD)
by Sari Solden
I have a guest host today who is tired of hearing me talk about “her”.
She asked to speak directly to you.
Sari Solden: The Inner Work of Adult ADHD is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.
Think of this as a letter from your brain—your overworked, loyal, misunderstood brain—to you. The you who is trying so hard. The you who is exhausted by trying so hard. The you who keeps thinking the answer is “more”: more effort, more structure, more fixing, more self-improvement… and who ends up feeling like less.
Today, I want to let your brain speak for herself.
You can name her if you like.
She might like that.
(it also might help you to humanize her a little bit)
A Letter From Your Overworked Brain
Dear you,
I’m your brain.
I know you usually talk about me, or complain about me, or try to fix me, but you don’t often listen to me. So today, I’m asking you to pause and really hear me.
I’m not your enemy.
I’m not your defect.
I’m not your “project.”
I am a powerful force.
And I am tired.
You keep me locked in a little mental cubicle, working double and triple shifts, trying to make up for all the ways you think I fall short. You push me harder because you’re scared—scared I’ll drop the ball, say the wrong thing, forget, or fail again. You’re afraid of judgment, of disappointment, of confirming what you fear others already think of you.
So you tighten your grip.
You push me.
You criticize me.
You compare me.
You keep me “on” long after I’ve told you I’m done for the day.
And I do try to tell you. I tell you when I’m overstressed, when I’m foggy, when I can’t focus, when your body feels tense and your mood drops and everything feels heavy and stupid and wrong. That’s me, waving my arms, saying:
Please. I need air.
I need rest.
I need play.
I need to dream.
You think that if you loosen your grip on me, I’ll fall apart. The secret I need you to know is this:
The tighter you hold me,
the harder you push,
the less I can actually help you.
When you deprive me of oxygen and joy and meaning and movement, my voice shrinks. Your world dims. Your motivation disappears. I get quieter and more stubborn and less cooperative. And then you blame me for not being “better.”
I’m asking—no, I’m pleading—with you:
Stop trying to get rid of me.
Stop trying to turn me into someone else’s brain.
Stop banishing me to second-class status in your own life.
I am your central processing system.
I run everything you do.
What if, instead of treating me like a problem to solve, you treated me like a partner?
What if you elevated me to the queen bee status I already hold?
Because here’s what I can do for you—when I am cared for, respected, and allowed to be who I am:
I can think beautiful thoughts.
I can imagine worlds and futures you haven’t even dreamed of yet.
I can make connections and see patterns other people miss.
I can create ideas and insights that are uniquely, wonderfully yours.
But not while I’m locked in a cell.
Not while you are shaming me.
Not while every interaction between us is a scolding.
I want to be your friend.
I want to help you build a life that feels like yours.
I want to help you grow into all those things you secretly dream of.
To do that, I need something from you.
Your Brain’s Requests
Take an hour for me this week.
Just one hour.
Use a voice memo, a notebook, your laptop, or simply sit somewhere quiet. And instead of making another to-do list, I want you to answer these questions to me—your brain:
When do you feel most alive?
When do you feel the worst?
Then ask:
How could you treat me better?
How could you treat me if you were assuming I was doing my very best under hard conditions, instead of assuming I’m lazy, broken, or “not enough”?
Remember: I notice everything.
I notice when I’m tired and you ignore it.
I notice when I’m overstimulated and you keep scrolling.
I notice when I need a walk, and you glue us to the chair.
I notice when we need a day or even an hour to recover, play, stare out a window, listen to music, or do nothing “productive” at all.
I need some time each day to:
wander
dream
gather my thoughts
let creative ideas rise to the surface
I cannot do that if every spare moment is turned into
another system, another hack, another piece of self-criticism.
If you experiment with this—if you start noticing how you treat me, and gently, gradually shift it—here’s what I can promise:
Over time, as you become my ally instead of my harsh taskmaster, I will reward you.
Your mind will feel richer, more alive.
You will have more access to the best of me: creativity, insight, humor, passion, big-heartedness.
You’ll begin to sense what’s actually possible for us, together, when I’m not living under constant suspicion and pressure.
We may still need some outside help—a calendar, a coach, an “admin brain” in human or digital form to support the things I don’t do naturally. That’s okay. That’s not failure. That’s a wise partnership.
With your energy
and my unique wiring
and a bit of practical support,
we can build a life that fits us—not the imaginary woman you keep thinking you’re supposed to be.
Please, let’s form a partnership.
Not by fixing me into someone else’s brain,
but by honoring the one you have.
With love,
Your Brain
From me (Sari) to you:
This is the heart of the “inner work” I want to keep exploring with you here.
Not just understanding ADHD. Not just watching webinars, reading, or attending support groups—although those can all be helpful. But learning how to live with your brain in a new way, week by week, in real time. Learning how not to spend your whole life in recovery mode from the way you’ve treated yourself.
I’ll keep offering you language, frameworks, and practices for doing this. For now, just start with that one hour, and those questions.
Let your brain write to you.
And write back.
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