There is a particular kind of tightrope many late‑diagnosed ADHD adults know all too well. On one side is the fear of being “too much”, too intense, too talkative, too emotional, too demanding. On the other side is the fear of not being seen as “enough”; not reliable enough, not consistent enough, not successful enough, not together enough. It can feel as if there is no safe middle ground where you are simply allowed to exist as you are.

For many, this shows up in small, everyday moments that don’t look dramatic from the outside. You talk to process your thoughts and end up oversharing, then go home replaying the conversation and cringing. You react strongly in the moment, then tell yourself you overreacted.

You make big promises to yourself or others about what you will do next week, next month, next year, and then watch yourself under‑deliver, again. Each time, the story that whispers in the background is the same: “See? Too much. Not enough. Never just right.”

If any of that feels familiar, this article is for you. Not to diagnose you, label you or tell you who you are, but to offer an explanation that is kinder and more accurate than “I’m a mess.” There are understandable reasons why this pattern shows up with ADHD. It is not a personal failing and it is not something you need to feel ashamed about, even if shame has been your default response for years.

What “too much / not enough” feels like with ADHD

Let’s stay with the lived experience for a moment.

For many ADHD adults, verbal processing is a big part of how thinking happens. Thoughts come into focus as you speak them out loud. That can be a strength in the right environment, but it can also lead to talking more than others expect, sharing more personal detail than feels “normal” in that context, or jumping quickly between ideas.

Afterwards, you may lie awake thinking, “Why did I say all that? I must have come across as ridiculous, needy or self‑absorbed.” The internal verdict is: too much.

At other times, the “not enough” story takes over. You promise yourself you will finally get organised, start the project, be more present with your partner or children. You believe it when you say it. But then energy dips, distractions pile up, or life throws something unexpected at you.

What got promised in a high‑energy moment cannot be matched by your capacity on an average Tuesday. Suddenly, you are the person who overpromises and underdelivers, to others, but also to yourself. The verdict this time is: not enough.

Hold those two experiences together and you get the tightrope: constantly trying to avoid being “too much” for people while also fearing you are fundamentally “not enough” to build the life you want. There is no resting place where you feel comfortably human. Just a constant, anxious balancing act.

How ADHD wiring and experience fuel this loop

This pattern does not appear out of nowhere. It grows from a particular mix of wiring and experience.

ADHD often comes with strong swings in energy and focus, including emotional energy. Some days you feel on fire; talking freely, ideas sparking, emotions vivid and close to the surface. Other days you feel flat, numb or utterly depleted.

If you are also highly sensitive or emotionally impulsive, those high‑energy days can lead you to say yes to things you do not realistically have the capacity for, or to share parts of yourself that feel raw and exposing. When your state shifts, you are left holding the consequences in a very different nervous system.

Layered on top of that is history. Many adults with ADHD have lived through years of subtle and not‑so‑subtle criticism: too noisy, too disorganised, too forgetful, too intense, too “dramatic”, not focused enough, not tidy enough, not serious enough. Over time, the message lands: who you are as you are is not okay. The natural response is to adapt.

Some people respond by shrinking. They mask, hide their struggles, try to smooth off their edges to avoid drawing attention. In stressful situations they might freeze, unable to find words, unable to decide, unable to take a step in any direction.

Others fawn, pushing down their own needs and preferences to keep the peace. Underneath both is often the same fear: “If people really saw me, they would leave, attack or laugh.”

Self‑doubt, second‑guessing and overthinking become survival strategies. You learn to scan for potential reactions before you act. You rehearse conversations in your head and rewrite emails ten times. You rerun past interactions looking for evidence you made a fool of yourself. It is exhausting, but it feels safer than being caught off‑guard again.

Shame, self‑worth and becoming your own barrier

When you live in that loop for long enough, shame starts to seep into everything.

Shame is different from guilt. Guilt says, “I did something wrong.” Shame says, “I am wrong.” If, every time you miss a deadline, forget a commitment, say something impulsive or melt down from overwhelm, the story you tell yourself is, “This proves I am fundamentally defective,” shame deepens its roots. You do not just feel bad about what happened; you feel bad about who you are.

In that context, it makes painful sense that you might hesitate to act at all. If you have learned that visible effort followed by a stumble leads to humiliation, it is tempting to stay inside a narrow range of actions that feel familiar.

Perfectionism often grows here. If you believe that the only way to protect yourself from shame is to get things completely right, you will keep raising the bar until it is almost impossible to meet. Starting becomes terrifying. Finishing becomes rare.

Imposter syndrome thrives in the same soil. You may have achievements that look impressive to others, but inside it still feels as though you are one mistake away from being exposed as a fraud.

That feeling keeps you playing smaller than your abilities, avoiding risks that matter, or endlessly preparing instead of stepping forward. In trying not to be “too much” or “not enough,” you become your own barrier to the life you want.

Permission to be “enough”

None of this is a moral failing. It is a pattern, a very understandable one, shaped by how your nervous system works and what you have lived through. One of the most powerful shifts for many clients is recognising that “enough” is not a mythical state where life is finally perfect and all criticism disappears.

“Enough” is closer to “good enough for today, in this context, with the resources I have.” That can sound unambitious at first, especially if you have spent years using impossibly high standards as a shield. But in practice, it is where sustainable change begins.

A couple of ideas often help here.

The first is the Pareto principle: roughly 20% of your effort will create 80% of the meaningful result. Perfectionism insists on chasing the final 20% of polish, often at the cost of your wellbeing and relationships. When you gently experiment with “done is better than perfect,” you start to see where that extra push is actually self‑sabotage rather than excellence. You give yourself permission to stop at “enough” and notice that the world does not collapse.

The second is to ask, quite bluntly, “Whose permission am I waiting for?” Many adults with ADHD are unconsciously waiting for some external authority, a parent, a boss, a partner, a faceless “they”, to declare them acceptable. Until that happens, they hold back from structuring life in ways that actually work for them. Naming this can be uncomfortable, but it also opens up a new possibility: what if you did not need anyone else to sign off on your right to exist as you are?

Linked to that is a deeper question: “What makes me think I am not enough already?” Often the answers are old stories, inherited beliefs and past experiences of being told you were wrong for existing the way you do. Seeing them as stories, rather than truths, does not magic them away, but it does create a little more room to breathe.

Noticing the pattern vs. changing everything

There is a risk, when you start to see this loop clearly, of turning it into yet another stick to beat yourself with. “Look at all the ways I self‑sabotage. Why can’t I just stop?” That is why it is important to separate two steps: noticing where the pattern shows up and changing your behaviour.

The first step is awareness. Where in your life do you most feel “too much”? Is it in social situations, at work, in your family, online? Where do you most feel “not enough”? Is it in your career, your productivity, your emotional responses, your ability to keep up with friends? Simply mapping this out can already reduce confusion. It shows you that this is not everywhere, all the time, in the same way.

The second step is action, but it does not need to be grand. In fact, starting small is usually far more effective. You might ask yourself, “Where would be the easiest or least risky place to experiment with something different?”

It could be saying no to a tiny request instead of automatically agreeing. It could be letting an email go out at “good enough” instead of editing it for the fifth time. It could be allowing yourself to leave a social event slightly earlier, before you are completely drained, instead of pushing through out of obligation.

You might also ask, “Who could support me with this?” Support does not always have to mean formal coaching or therapy. It might be a friend who understands your patterns and can gently reality‑check your self‑criticism.

It might be a partner who is willing to co‑create routines that work with your energy, not against it. Or it might be someone who will simply remind you, when you are spiralling, that you are allowed to be human.

When support helps

There is a particular kind of person this pattern bites hardest. From the outside, they often look fine. Competent, even. They get things done, they hold it together, they know how to say the right things in the right rooms. The chaos is mostly internal. The cost is mostly invisible.

Inside, though, they can see how this “too much / not enough” loop has been quietly undermining their joy for years. Work becomes a constant test they can never quite pass. Relationships feel like places where they must monitor themselves carefully to avoid being “too much,” while secretly fearing they are not giving enough. Rest never feels fully earned. Achievements are dismissed. The bar keeps moving.

If you see yourself in this, you are someone whose nervous system and history have combined to create a pattern that once helped you survive and now limits your ability to thrive. You deserve support that takes that seriously, without making you wrong for it.

Coaching around this theme is not about turning you into a different person. It is about helping you define, for yourself, what “enough” actually means in the parts of life that matter to you, and then building simple, repeatable strategies to reach that baseline more often. Over time, that can grow a sturdier, less fragile sense of self‑esteem and a more grounded confidence that is not constantly at the mercy of every good or bad day.

If you recognise yourself in this tightrope walk and want a space to explore it with someone who will not ask you to be less of yourself, you are welcome to take the next step and book an introductory call. Together, we can start to untangle the stories of “too much” and “not enough,” and move towards a life where you are allowed to be simply, humanly, you.

If you enjoyed this article and want to keep reading, you might also like:

Why Self-Compassion is Essential for Adults with ADHD – on shifting from self‑attack to a kinder, more realistic relationship with yourself.

People Pleasing and ADHD: How to Break Free and Prioritise Your Needs – for when saying yes, smoothing things over and shrinking yourself has become your default.

Cognitive Masturbation: Why ADHD Mental Overdrive Feels Good but Gets You Nowhere – if overthinking, second‑guessing and mental rehearsals keep you stuck on the spot.

Defining Enough: Walking The ADHD Tightrope Between Being Too Much And Not Being Enough