Last week, a client of mine – let’s call him John – told me the following story: „Last Monday, I sat in front of my laptop for two hours. Doing nothing. Okay, not nothing exactly. I checked my inbox. I scrolled through Slack. I stared at my to-do list and reorganized it five times. I even made a new playlist titled “Focus, please!”

As the mom of a neurodivergent child, I’ve spent the last few years trying out different ways to help my son thrive. After countless hours of research and experimentation, our family today eats a primarily plant-based diet. We follow U.S. based doctors like Michael Greger, Neal Barnard, Joel Fuhrman and Dean Ornish who all advocate for whole-food, plant-rich nutrition. Back in the States, we even found pediatricians who supported a plant-based lifestyle for children.

If there’s one sentence I’ve heard most often from my clients with ADHD, it’s this: “I just can’t focus.” If you’re a student, sitting in class or a lecture hall, staring at your instructor who’s been talking for what feels like hours about something you couldn’t care less about, you know exactly what I mean. Your body is there, but your mind? It’s already gone. Somewhere between planning your weekend, worrying about an email you forgot to send, and wondering if your desk neighbor’s pen click is actually a form of psychological warfare.

When my family moved from the U.S. to Germany, I thought we were ready for almost everything: a new language, new routines, new friends. My son started first grade at a small, charming elementary school in a well-off, very homogenous neighborhood. Most of the kids looked alike, spoke German as their mother tongue, and came from similar family backgrounds. My son stood out: Native American, English speaker, new to the country, still processing culture shock.

In almost every workshop I run, one topic comes up again and again, and it always sparks a lively debate: Should I tell my boss and colleagues that I have ADHD? The responses are always mixed. Some people share incredibly positive experiences encompassing moments of connection, understanding, and genuine support. Others shake their heads and say, “Never again,” recalling stories of being dismissed, underestimated, or even discriminated against.

“It takes a village to raise a child.” We’ve all heard that saying before. But here’s what I’ve learned: It also takes a village to live with ADHD. ADHD can be overwhelming. And while many of us try to power through on their own, the reality is that we need help, guidance, and support from others.

Procrastination, or, as I like to call it, “chronic postponing,” is probably one of the biggest struggles I see as an ADHD coach. And let’s be honest: who among us with ADHD doesn’t know that feeling? We want to start, desperately even, but something inside us just won’t let us. The reasons vary: lack of motivation, boredom, overwhelm, perfectionism, or fear of falling short of our own expectations.

At our house, sibling fights are almost a daily soundtrack. I’ve got two boys, one is 8, the other 4 1/2, and like most brothers, they have their good moments together, but lately it feels like there’s more rivalry than harmony. My older son is on both the ADHD and autism spectrum, and my younger one also shows some neurodivergent tendencies. It’s no surprise then that tensions run high.

I coach a lot of ADHD clients who are unhappy at work. They come to me feeling drained, stuck, or worse: like something must be wrong with them. Maybe they’ve been unemployed for a while and are starting to lose confidence. Maybe they’ve bounced from job to job, always hoping the next one will finally be the right fit. Or maybe they’ve tried their hardest to make a job work, only to be let down by burnout, bad feedback, or workplace misunderstandings.