Dutch Uncle: Stop taking your diagnosis to the hardware store.
The well is dry. Stop dropping the bucket.
I need to confess something.
Even though it has been over 10 years since I trained as a psychotherapist, and despite having a stack of clinical data on my desk, I broke my own rule last Tuesday.
It was 8:30 PM. I was pacing my kitchen, tea stone-cold on the counter, phone pressed to my ear. I was doing the “Explanation Dance.”
You know the one. It’s that desperate, sweating tap-dance where you try to explain your neurodivergence to a parent (or authority figure) who is fundamentally committed to not understanding you.
Being Autistic, my brain craves accuracy. I spent fifteen years in Tech; I approach problems like I’m debugging code. My logic is: “If I can just show them the error log... if I can just provide the correct documentation... the system will finally run correctly.”
I found myself citing dopamine transporter genes to a relative who thinks ADHD is caused by “too much iPad time.”
I was wrong.
And if you are currently drafting a long WhatsApp message to your parents trying to explain why you forgot their birthday/didn’t call/lost your keys again, you are wrong too.
I say this with love, but I need to be direct: You are going to the hardware store and asking for a loaf of bread.
You are seeking emotional validation from people who do not stock it. Here is the hard truth about why you need to stop seeking their approval and start building a fortress around your peace.
1. Your Diagnosis Challenges Their Narrative
To a parent with narcissistic traits or high rigidity, they are the “perfect parent.” If you have ADHD and it went undiagnosed for thirty years, that is a data point that proves they missed something. It proves a failure in their system.
In their world, they cannot be the failure. Therefore, the problem must be you.
They will call it a “TikTok fad,” tell you that “everyone is a bit ADHD,” or insist you’re just looking for an excuse for being messy. They aren’t being dense; they are protecting their ego. Stop trying to debug their denial. You are wasting executive function tokens you cannot afford to lose.
2. Information is Ammunition
This is the Psychotherapist side of me talking: In a healthy family, saying “I have ADHD” invites support. In a dysfunctional family, it invites weaponisation.
If you hand them the blueprint to your vulnerabilities—telling them exactly where your Executive Function fails—do not be surprised when they use that map to dismantle your autonomy later.
“Are you sure you can handle that promotion? You know how you get with stress.”
Share your diagnosis with people who will use it to build you a ramp, not those who will use it to dig you a hole.
3. The “Incapable” Clause
This is the part that took me the longest to accept. They aren’t “choosing” not to see you; they are often fundamentally incapable of it.
Think back to the data we discussed on Signal Saturday regarding $rGE$ (Gene-Environment Correlation). Your parents are likely operating in that same genetic echo chamber, perhaps living with their own undiagnosed, masked neurodivergence and trauma.
They are running on legacy code that has never been patched.
Acknowledging this isn’t about “forgiving” them—it’s about adjusting your expectations. You wouldn’t ask a person without arms to catch a ball. Stop asking emotionally limited people to hold your complex reality.
4. Setting the “ADHD Boundary”
If you are going to keep these people in your life, you need to stop explaining and start enforcing.
The Old Way (The Masking Way): “Please try to understand that when I forget to call, it’s my ADHD, not because I don’t care.” (Result: A 20-minute lecture on responsibility).
The Dutch Uncle Way: “I’m not discussing my health or my schedule with you anymore. If you start criticising my character, I’m hanging up the phone.”
The Bottom Line
You spent thirty years being “unseen” in your own home. You finally see yourself now. That is the only validation that actually matters for your recovery.
The well is dry, my friend. Stop dropping the bucket.
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