ADHD, Creativity + Wellness - the holy trinity.

how creativity has helped my ADHD brain.

I’ve always been described as “distracted.” My dad’s affectionate nickname for me as a kid was “Dopey,” because I often seemed to walk around in my own bubble, oblivious to everything else around me.

Baby Sophie - who I do it all for!

When I brought my old school reports to my psychologist during my ADHD assessment, most of them said the same thing — “Has great potential, but needs to stop talking.”

Fortunately, I must have found a way to channel my attention into school, because I did eventually go on to do well. I left school with great grades, went to a top university, and earned a 2:1 degree in History.

During the diagnosis process, my psychologist asked me how I found school. He was surprised by how well I had performed on paper—but he wanted to know more about my emotional experience.

I explained how I loved certain subjects—History, English, Art, and Music. Studying for them never felt like a chore. I soaked up the information like a sponge. But when it came to the more difficult subjects—Maths and Science—I really struggled. It felt like the information just wouldn’t stick. No matter how many times I read something, it was like a wall went up in my brain, blocking it from being processed.

What I discovered in my teens was that I could memorise things like a script. I would mentally photograph the information, and during exams, I could recall what I needed and write it down. But if you had asked me to actually explain what it meant, I wouldn’t have had a clue. Still, this approach helped me achieve B’s in subjects I disliked and found extremely challenging.

“But isn’t that what everyone does?” I asked

Apparently not. This is actually a common autistic trait. People with interest-driven brains—like many of us who are neurodivergent—often find subjects they love to be easy and engaging, while struggling deeply with topics that don’t resonate.

Since my diagnosis, I’ve been exploring and trying to better understand the relationship between creativity, ADHD, and well-being.

When I look back on my childhood, it’s so clear: my happiness and well-being were directly tied to how free I felt to create and follow my interests. I loved drawing, designing clothes, making magic potions out of glitter and mud, and writing my own storybooks. I was happiest in a world of my own creation.

But adulthood taught me something harsh: the real world isn’t always friendly to that way of thinking.

Even when I wasn’t consciously prioritising my well-being, creativity has always been my coping mechanism—my way of self-regulating, escaping, and feeling better. Some of my darkest moments were during early motherhood, when I was severely under-stimulated, stuck at home all day with minimal self-care or creative outlets. The only consistent one I had was journaling—and even that felt like too much, some days.

After my diagnosis, the more I learned about ADHD, the more curious I became about how creativity and interest-based learning affect our health and self-esteem.

Martha Beck—a sociologist and author—talks openly about her own ADHD diagnosis on her podcast The Gathering Room. When the doctor explained she had an interest-driven brain, he added reassuringly, “But don’t worry, we can medicate you for that!” She was puzzled. “Why would I want to stop being interested in the things I love?”

She’s also a pioneer in exploring the link between creativity and anxiety. In her book Beyond Anxiety, she explains how curiosity can shift the brain from an anxious state to one of love, flow, and calm. If you’re spiralling, instead of trying to stop the anxiety directly, ask: What can I make? Then use your hands. Activate your imagination. That simple act can regulate your nervous system.

Other studies back up the belief that neurodivergent brains tend to be more engaged in creative thinking, better at generating new ideas, and more skilled in out-of-the-box problem-solving.

I relate to this deeply. But I also understand that only following your interests isn’t always compatible with daily life. If we all just did what we wanted, laundry wouldn’t get done, boring jobs wouldn’t get attended, and we’d probably all live in our pyjamas.

Here’s what I’ve learned about striking that balance—between honouring my interests and functioning as an adult (who’s also responsible for keeping two small humans alive):

I am not the best version of myself when I’m not creating. Many times, I thought I was depressed or unhappy, only to realise I was actually under-stimulated. I felt stagnant. There was no movement, no learning, no making. And without those dopamine hits, my brain mirrored depression.

When I don’t create, my brain creates problems instead. We are all born creative. And if we don’t use that creativity, it stays stagnant—and can manifest as low mood, overthinking, and rumination. If I don’t feed my creativity, my mind starts obsessing over the past, worrying about the future, or inventing problems that don’t even exist. Now, when I notice myself overthinking, I ask: What can I create?

Creativity isn’t just about art. Creativity is problem-solving.

My life philosophies are: “turn your heart into art” and “turn chaos into creativity.”

You can get creative with anything—your goals, your budget, your routine. For example, how can you stretch your money in a way that still brings joy? How can you make progress toward your dreams using the resources you already have?

Yes, the adulting still needs to happen. And it matters too. I’m not interested in cleaning, but I know if my house is messy, my brain gets overwhelmed. I don’t always want to exercise, but my anxiety worsens if I don’t. I don’t love the school run, but my kids' education is important.

What I’ve learned is this: aim for “good enough” with the boring stuff. If I’m low-energy, I’ll do a 10-minute workout. If I clean for 30 minutes with a timer, it’s not perfect—but it’s tidy and manageable, and that’s enough for me.

Save your best energy for what truly lights you up. The things you can’t stop thinking about. The dreams you had as a child. Maybe when you crochet, the world fades away. Maybe writing your memoir makes you feel alive. Maybe that spin class reconnects you to yourself. Life is short—and too precious to spend doing things you don’t give a sh*t about.

Maybe my teachers were right. Maybe I am distracted.

But maybe I’m distracted in the best possible way.

Maybe I’m laser-focused on building a life that feels like home. A life I want to escape into, not out of. One that feels like a piece of art—beautiful, chaotic, personal, and deeply mine.

From the clothes I wear, to the books I read, to the articles I write and the prints I hang on my walls—this is all part of my creative expression.

You are the creative CEO of your life.

And maybe your life is just waiting for you to be so distracted by what you're creating…that the unimportant stuff finally stops mattering.