As a teen, I vividly remember struggling with focus in dance classes. Whether learning combinations or receiving generalized feedback, my mind would zigzag in and out of the studio. Realizing I was no longer mentally present, I would panic, fearing my teachers would notice or I was stunting progress. Yet, somehow, once beckoned to dance, my anxiety would subside and I became laser-focused, recalling exercises, counting music, and applying corrections all at once. In hindsight, signs I had attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) were clear. Still, it took nearly 25 more years to stumble upon my diagnosis.
I believe we best understand ourselves in the reflection of others. For me, a major relationship shift in 2022 sparked new self-awareness. About a year in, my new boyfriend noted how I seemed not to be listening. At first, I dismissed his perception as a common relationship dynamic. But as his concern persisted, I began to wonder if years of loud rehearsals and headphone use had affected my hearing.
Expecting bad news, I scheduled an exam, only to learn my hearing was nearly perfect. Confused, given my results, I questioned if there could be another reason I wasn’t retaining spoken information. My doctor suggested the possibility that I was hearing people, but my brain wasn’t processing what I heard. Her insight started my journey into understanding that I exist on a spectrum of neurodivergence.
After subsequently being tested for and receiving my diagnosis, I began studying the disorder and reflecting how symptoms showed up in both my everyday life and work. In my research, I learned many high-functioning people with ADHD either use their symptoms or develop work-arounds to their benefit. This appears to be especially common for high achievers and those with an artistic sensibility.
As a choreographer, educator, and businessman, my atypical brain tends to be more of an asset than a liability. Common ADHD behaviors like multitasking and developing creative solutions are my forté. And if a project interests me, I can become fixated on the work and accomplish tasks at breakneck speeds.
On the other hand, symptoms can, at times, get in the way of productivity and cause anxiety. A tendency to easily experience boredom and frustration with repetitive work explains why I am more likely to work as a freelance contractor instead of a regular employee. Yet, working in this capacity as an ADHD artist also has its challenges. I am now aware of why I overschedule work on my calendar, often leading to exhaustion. The impulsive draw of exciting projects overshadows the memory of countless periods of burnout I’ve experienced.
One of the more complex conversations after my diagnosis was whether I should consider medication. I managed living with ADHD unmedicated for 40 years and still built a significant career in dance and education. The question became whether a prescription, like Adderall, would benefit me with more focus and reduce anxiety or if it would disrupt creativity and productivity.
After many conversations, six months ago, I made the informed decision to try medication. Since then, my doctor has adjusted my dosage twice. Throughout this test period, I have checked in with family, friends, and peers to ensure the core of my personality and the quality of my work has not suffered.
I was surprised by how subtly the medication affected me. I hadn’t realized how quickly and often my mind jumped subjects. With this new lens, I noticed how I sometimes stopped listening mid-conversation or spoke over others. Medication hasn’t erased these habits, but it has given me more focus and space to pause, bringing greater awareness. My creativity and productivity remain intact, though I still catch myself leaning into task-switching impulses.
Unaware for much of my life that I exist on the ADHD spectrum, I am grateful I found dance. As a child, it gave me a nonverbal outlet to channel multiple tracks of racing thoughts, ease anxiety, and find purpose. As a young performer, the mix of routine and spontaneity kept me engaged and fulfilled. Now, as a choreographer and educator approaching middle age, I share my art and passion for the field with a deeper sense of self while having a clearer understanding of how to support students, dancers, and peers who may also live on the neurodivergent spectrum.