Not the quiet, leaky tears of frustration or fatigue that sneak out in between the school run and the dishes, when life feels like it’s on fast-forward. This was deep. Grief. Raw, aching grief… for the teenager I once was.
I felt so deeply for the misunderstood, emotional, wild-hearted girl who tried desperately to get it right. The one who bent herself into shapes to please and fit in, only to collapse in confusion and shame when she couldn’t keep up the act. Labelled moody, inconsistent, angry… the list goes on.
I see her now through the lens of my recent ADHD diagnosis at 45. I see her stumbling through her teenage years, falling fast and hard (and then out) of love, drinking too much, breaking hearts, and pushing boundaries that weren’t meant for girls like her - girls who weren’t made to sit still, stay small, or follow the crowd without question.
Girls like me. Girls who were too much. Too sensitive. Too impulsive. Too emotional. Too wild.
Running to Find Freedom
At 18, I did the thing I felt I had to do and ran for the escape route. I spread my wings and flew.
I flew away from judgment, from the pressure to conform to what everyone else was doing, from the gnawing sense that I was still getting it all wrong - that I couldn't keep up. I ran towards adventure, passion, and the possibility of something new. Something exciting.
I lived in wild places, met wild people, and fed my soul on freedom, adventure, the outdoors, fire, and fun. And for a long while, it worked. I loved it.
But it wasn’t sustainable.
Eventually, I told myself it was time to “settle down.” The wild years were over. I knew I wanted children and a family more than anything - I felt it in my bones.
I remember vividly the fear that this would be another thing I’d get wrong. That motherhood would somehow escape my grasp. That I’d fail - again - at getting something “normal” right.
So I came back to the UK. And with a lot of luck, I met and married my husband, and went on to have my three daughters at 36, 38, and 41.
I copied, intensely, what I thought a “good wife” and “good mum” looked like. I masked. Again. Still trying to fit in. Still trying to get it right.
History Repeats
And now… it’s happening again.
I see it - my old patterns mirrored in my girls. Especially my 9-year-old, already simmering with rage and confusion. Already trying to hold it all together at school. Trying so hard to get things right... only to erupt at home, her safe place.
I know her pain. I feel her pain.
My husband is buckling under the strain too. His body literally aching under the emotional pressure.
And then came the gut-punch: My older brother - forever the quieter, smarter, cleverer, more sensible one - told my husband that I was a horrendous teenager.
I know he’s right. But hearing it… crushed me.
The shame. The heartbreak. The knowing that I left a mark.
Is There Still Time?
Sometimes, I still want to press the big ESCAPE button. To run off into the world, the mountains, the hills. To reinvent myself (or ourselves) again.
To start over in a new place, with new people who don’t carry my past in their eyes.
But… could there be another way?
Can I stop running, remove the mask, and find peace here and now?
Can I talk about what it means to be a woman with ADHD? Overwhelmed, misunderstood, and now mothering through the fog of her own healing?
Masking & Motherhood: A Perfect Storm
Masking is when we pretend. When we smile, nod, perform, suppress, and conform. ADHD women are expert maskers.
But it comes at a high cost: burnout, anxiety, rage, identity loss, chronic self-doubt. Too much, yet never enough.
We tend to hide our impulsivity, our distractibility, our struggles with emotional regulation - not just from the world, but from ourselves. Trying our best to keep it under wraps. To only dream freely in our heads. To hold onto memories of our wild and free days, while also trying to build something secure and peaceful for our children.
But as mothers, the stakes feel even higher. We’re trying to do all of this while still figuring out who we are. And the masks? They start to slip.
Questions I’m Asking (Maybe You Are Too)
Can relationships survive this kind of awakening?
Can I be my wild, authentic self and a grounded, present mum?
What does it look like to not run away this time?
Is stimulant medication helpful, or is there a deeper healing I need?
Can I learn to forgive the girl I was - and the mother I am?
Will my children be okay?
Am I okay?
A Call to Other Women Like Me
If you’ve ever felt like running. If you've ever grieved your teenage or younger self. If you’re trying so hard to be the perfect mum, wife, woman and it feels like somedays you’re crumbling inside - I'm with you.
I know how you feel.
Let’s start asking hard questions. Let’s start talking about masking. Let’s start peeling away the layers and rebuilding from truth.
Start Here
If you’re reading this and feel a little shaken, raw or maybe wide open - then I've got just the thing to help. I've created a free self-regulation workbook just for mums like us. It’s called:
Inside, you’ll find soft, simple practices to help you ground, breathe, reflect, and reconnect - even on the most chaotic days. It’s not a quick fix (there's nothing broken here!) - it’s a companion. A calm little corner. A reminder that you have everything you need inside.
Take what you need, skip what you don’t. You make the rules here! I’m simply here to guide you. And to remind you: you have a tribe. You are not alone.
What if there’s a way for us to be true to ourselves and thrive for our children, spouses, and families at the same time?
What if we could unmask together - in community, in curiosity, in compassion? Could we teach our daughters a different way?
Could we stay?
But Just Before I Go… Let’s Come Back to Yoga
My Lifeline. My Compass.
Yoga has always been more than movement for me. It’s been a mirror. A refuge. My magic carpet and a pathway to meet my truest self - the one that lives deep within me. (Or sometimes, I imagine her sitting on my shoulder in a peaceful little lotus pose :)
Usually, yoga holds me through any emotional spiral. But this week, despite teaching seven classes, I didn’t practice just for me. Not once.
And I feel it in my nervous system, in my mood, in my bones. That’s when the tears came. So I know I need to create space for myself again this week.
My favourite way to practice has always been outdoors - my bare feet on the grass, eyes to the sky, wind in my hair. I’m an outdoors girl. Always have been. Nature resets me in a way nothing else can.
Living in New Zealand, I embraced the outside to the fullest. And now… I do my best, here in the UK.
When I first discovered yoga, I started uncovering parts of myself I never knew were there:
Inner wisdom: She's there. She’s got me. (Hey - she’s sitting on my shoulder!)
Resilience: I can endure a little discomfort, knowing “this too shall pass.”
Determination: I can do difficult things.
Self-discovery: A way to find new tools and actually use them - to run off-road marathons, travel to far-flung places, hike up mountains, raise children, start over.
Yes, really. Yoga flung open doors I didn’t even know were locked.
Maybe there’s still a part of me that wants to run. But when I bring that wildness into yoga… something calming happens.
Do I Have All the Answers?
No. I don’t. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
But I’ve stopped pretending I do. And maybe that’s where healing begins.
Maybe hope doesn’t come from fixing ourselves… but from finally allowing ourselves to be fully seen - messy, wild, unsure, and still worthy.
Your Turn
If any part of this landed in your heart, I’d love to hear from you. Maybe share:
Which part of your story you're grieving right now?
What helps you feel anchored when the world feels too loud?
How do you find moments to unmask and just be?
Let’s start talking. Let’s stop hiding.
You belong here, just as you are - among the wildflowers. 🌸
P.S.
If you’re like me - craving space, quiet, fresh air, nature (the mountains — it's always the mountains for me!) and some sort of anchor - then I’ve got another tool you might like to try one day...
It’s a lovingly-crafted Outdoor Yoga Practice Guide - small, simple, powerful inspiration to take your yoga (and yourself) outside for a moment (or two). You can print it, pack it, and practice it anywhere.