Independence and connection
Independence, Connection and the ADHD Brain
There is a particular kind of tug of war that shows up for many ADHD adults. On one side is the need to feel free, autonomous and unconfined. On the other is the deep need to feel loved, chosen and safely connected. Both are genuine needs. Both matter. Yet they often seem to pull in opposite directions, especially when a sensitive nervous system is involved.
This article explores the tension between independence and connection through the lens of adult ADHD. It looks at how this can show up in everyday life, why it can feel so intense and how you might begin to navigate it with more awareness, self compassion and choice.
The Human Push And Pull
Independence and connection are not nice to haves. They sit at the heart of what it means to be human. Independence speaks to autonomy, personal freedom, self direction and the sense that your life is your own. Connection speaks to belonging, emotional safety, intimacy and the sense that you matter to others.
It can be tempting to think of these as a simple spectrum. At one end, total freedom and no ties. At the other, deep bonding and shared lives. Many people with ADHD experience them more like two powerful magnets pulling in different directions at the same time. When independence is frustrated, there can be a sense of being trapped, controlled or smothered. When connection feels out of reach, there can be a sharp ache for closeness and a fear of being abandoned or forgotten.
Rather than being neatly balanced, the system often lurches. One week might be packed with social contact and shared plans. The next might be marked by cancelled arrangements, closed doors and long stretches of being alone. From the outside, this can look inconsistent or confusing. From the inside, it can feel like desperately trying to keep emotional and sensory overwhelm at bay while still longing not to feel alone in the world.
How ADHD Turns Up The Volume
ADHD brings a particular flavour to this tension. For many, the story starts early, long before any diagnosis. Growing up with ADHD often means experiencing yourself as too much, too intense, too distracted, too sensitive, too forgetful or simply too confusing for the adults around you. Even in loving families this can translate into repeated micro experiences of misattunement. Someone does not quite get your feelings. A teacher calls you lazy instead of overwhelmed. A parent misreads your withdrawal as sulking instead of overstimulation.
Over time, the nervous system learns to be hyper vigilant for disapproval, criticism or rejection. Attachment can feel less like a safe harbour and more like a weather system that might suddenly turn. Stability in relationships may be patchy. Promises are made and not kept. Caregivers are physically present but emotionally distant. Peer relationships may be erratic, intense or full of misunderstandings.
As an adult, this history often translates into attachment patterns that struggle with both closeness and space. Part of you may crave deep connection, yet another part flinches at the vulnerability it requires. Part of you may long for more independence, yet another part panics at any hint of distance or disconnection. When you add in ADHD traits such as impulsivity, emotional intensity and difficulties with self regulation, that internal push and pull can feel completely exhausting.
Rejection Sensitivity And The Fear Of Belonging
Rejection sensitivity adds an extra twist. For many ADHD adults, the fear of being criticised, rejected or left is not just uncomfortable, it is agonising. Small signals, a delayed text, a slightly clipped tone, a partner being preoccupied, can feel like confirmation that something is wrong with you or that the relationship is about to rupture.
In that state, connection can feel like both medicine and poison. The need for reassurance becomes stronger, yet the possibility of rejection feels more dangerous. Some people respond by pursuing connection intensely, seeking constant confirmation that things are alright. Others respond by pulling away to avoid the anticipated pain, telling themselves they do not need anyone, or convincing themselves that caring less is safer.
Both strategies make sense. Both are ways of trying to protect yourself. Neither is particularly comfortable. The result is often a pattern where you feel pulled into closeness, then suddenly repel from it, then feel lonely and try to pull close again. On the outside this can look like mixed messages. On the inside it can feel like trying to breathe underwater.
Sensory Overload And The Need To Depeople
Alongside the emotional intensity of ADHD sits sensory and social overstimulation. Busy environments, complex conversations, group dynamics and the constant need to track social cues can be incredibly draining. Even when the company is lovely, the nervous system eventually starts flashing red.
This is where the need to depeople arrives. You may have your own version of this. Cancelling plans at the last minute. Disappearing into a book, a screen or a hobby. Retreating to a bedroom, office or favourite café. Going quiet on messages. The body and brain are saying, enough, too much input, time to retreat.
The challenge is that this retreat can easily be misread as rejection by others. It may even be misread by you. You might tell yourself you are being flaky, flaky is a word that gets thrown at ADHD adults quite a lot, unreliable or selfish. You might also feel the heaviness of loneliness within a day or two, and then shame for having pushed people away.
In reality, the need to depeople is often a healthy attempt at self regulation. It becomes problematic when it is not understood, not communicated or not balanced with conscious moves back toward connection. One of the most helpful shifts many ADHD adults make is learning to differentiate between restorative solitude and fearful withdrawal, then starting to build language around both.
Personal Refuge And The Search For Sanctuary
If you look back through your life, you may see a repeating theme. Places and activities that have served as refuge. Perhaps it was long walks, time with animals, solo travel, creative projects, mountains, music, crafting, long baths, late night gaming, or simply shutting the door and enjoying silence.
These refuges are not indulgences. They are often lifelines. They allow the nervous system to settle. They create a sense of wholeness and self connection that is not dependent on anyone else. For some ADHD adults, this refuge is such a central need that living alone feels like the only way to breathe freely.
The flip side is that when refuge is not understood, it can become a source of friction in relationships. A partner may experience your need for space as a personal rejection, especially if their own attachment history includes abandonment or inconsistency. You may experience requests for more together time as pressure to abandon yourself. Both of you may end up feeling wrong.
Recognising personal refuge as a legitimate need is a vital step. Once you see it clearly, you can begin to advocate for it with more clarity and less defensiveness. Instead of disappearing, you can say, I need some decompression time so I can come back to you with more bandwidth. Instead of assuming that solitude is a threat to connection, you can experiment with treating it as a way of nourishing connection.
The Ceiling On Connection
Many ADHD adults notice an invisible ceiling on how close they feel able to get to others. There is a point beyond which intimacy begins to feel unsafe. It might show up as changing the subject when conversations get too vulnerable, laughing things off, picking a fight just when things feel good, or physically leaving when emotions start to rise.
For some, this ceiling has roots in early experiences where closeness was linked with criticism, control or emotional chaos. The body remembers that opening up may be followed by shaming or unpredictability, so it steps in to protect. For others, particularly those with experiences such as boarding school, medical trauma or frequent separations, there may be a deep imprint of being sent away or left. In that case, closeness can unconsciously signal the risk of that pain returning.
In adult relationships, this ceiling can be confusing. You might long for the kind of bond where you feel completely seen and accepted, yet every time you get close to it, something in you pulls the plug. Or you might find yourself choosing partners who are themselves emotionally distant, because that feels safer than the intensity of real availability.
Noticing that you have a ceiling is not a failure. It is a sign that your nervous system has been doing its best to protect you. Bringing curiosity to that pattern, rather than judgement, opens the door to gently lifting that ceiling over time.
Independence, Connection And Identity
For many ADHD adults, independence is not just a preference, it is part of identity. Perhaps you grew up hearing that you were too sensitive or too intense. Perhaps you learnt early on that relying on others meant disappointment or control. Perhaps you had to fight for your own ways of doing things, your own rhythm, your own interests, and autonomy became woven into your sense of self.
At the same time, most people carry a quiet longing to feel chosen by at least one other person, to have their presence genuinely wanted, to be part of something. That might be an intimate partnership, a close friendship, a creative collaboration or a community. Belonging can feel almost intoxicating for ADHD adults who have spent years on the edges of groups or feeling like the odd one out.
The difficulty is that belonging can easily be confused with enmeshment. The fear that too much connection will erase you or trap you can be very real. You might find yourself saying yes when you want to say no, going along with plans that drain you, or agreeing to relationship patterns that do not actually suit you, simply because the idea of losing the connection feels unbearable. After a while, resentment creeps in and independence stages a loud comeback.
A helpful reframe is to view independence and connection not as opposite ends of a single line, but as two dials you can turn. It is possible to have high connection and high autonomy, though it often requires conscious communication, self awareness and occasionally some negotiation that feels uncomfortable at first.
From Polarities To A Blend
It can be useful to think of autonomy and connection as part of a wider skill set sometimes described as autonomy connectedness, the ability to be rooted in yourself while also being emotionally open and responsive to others. Many ADHD adults are naturally strong in some parts of this, such as emotional intensity or sensitivity to others, and less confident in others, such as tolerating vulnerability, trusting their own perceptions or setting boundaries that stick.
Rather than trying to choose between being independent or being connected, you might explore how to weave them together. That might mean learning to hold onto your own preferences while staying in dialogue with someone you care about. It might mean taking space without disappearing. It might mean reaching out again after retreating, instead of waiting for the other person to fix the gap.
This is not about becoming perfectly regulated or never being pulled between needs. It is about gradually increasing your ability to notice the pull, name it and then make slightly more intentional choices around it. Over time, those small adjustments can create a very different lived experience.
Practical Ways This Can Look
Different people will find different ways to honour both independence and connection. Some ADHD adults find it useful to have clear solo time that is agreed in advance. For example, a regular evening or day that is understood as sacred decompression time, which protects it from guilt and excuses it from last minute cancellations.
Others find that scheduling specific connection points helps. For instance, a weekly dinner, a standing phone call with a friend, or a planned pocket of time with a partner where both agree to be present and engaged. This can feel reassuring to the part of you that fears connection will be neglected, particularly when life gets busy or your attention is pulled in many directions.
Explicit agreements around communication can also help. Letting someone know that if you go quiet, it is usually a sign that you are overwhelmed rather than angry. Agreeing that it is okay to send a short message such as, I am overstimulated, I will reply properly later. Asking a partner or friend what silence means for them, so you do not automatically assume the worst.
Checking in with yourself regularly is another powerful practice. You might pause a couple of times a week and ask, on a scale from disconnected to overwhelmed, where am I right now. If you notice prolonged loneliness, it may be a nudge to reach toward connection, even in a small way. If you notice constant irritation and fatigue around people, it may be a cue to build in more intentional solitude.
Working With The Inner Critic
Many ADHD adults have a harsh internal commentator who has a lot to say about their patterns in relationships. It criticises you for cancelling plans, then criticises you for feeling lonely. It tells you that needing people is clingy and that needing space is selfish. It declares every conflict proof that you are too much or not enough.
Treating that voice as information rather than truth can be liberating. The critic often echoes old messages from caregivers, teachers or peers. It may also be trying, in its clumsy way, to keep you safe from shame. When you notice the critic firing up around your independence or connection choices, you might pause and ask what it is protecting you from. Is it trying to prevent rejection by pushing you to people please. Is it trying to prevent engulfment by urging you to withdraw.
Bringing some kindness into that inner conversation is not sentimental. It is practical. Self compassion has been shown to support better emotional regulation, less avoidance and more constructive problem solving. When you soften the internal pressure, you create a little more space to experiment with different choices instead of defaulting to old extremes.
Lifting The Ceiling, Loosening The Fear
Over time, it is possible to lift that invisible ceiling on connection and loosen the grip of fear around independence. This is not usually a sudden transformation. It tends to be a series of small shifts. Saying no to something that would drain you and sitting with the discomfort. Letting someone see a little more of your vulnerability and noticing that the world does not end. Taking a break to depeople and then actively coming back into contact rather than waiting until guilt pushes you to do so.
In relationships, this may look like talking openly about your need for refuge and your sensitivity to control. It may involve explaining that sometimes you will need to step away, not because you love someone less, but because your nervous system needs to reset in order to stay present. It may also involve listening to their needs and fears around connection, especially if your patterns trigger their own history.
There is no formula that will work for everyone. Each person brings a different mix of experiences, values and current life circumstances. What you can rely on is that both your need for independence and your need for connection are valid. You do not have to prove one and disown the other.
Moving Toward A More Spacious Middle
When you start to see independence and connection as two legitimate needs that can be tended to, rather than enemies that must fight for dominance, something softens. You can begin to build a life that includes personal refuge without isolation and meaningful bonds without erasure of self.
For ADHD adults, that often involves respecting the reality of a sensitive nervous system, rather than trying to override it. It means planning for decompression, not apologising for it, and cultivating relationships that can tolerate honesty about your limits. It also means gently updating old stories about what connection means, so that belonging no longer automatically implies control, criticism or abandonment.
You are allowed to need people. You are allowed to need space. You are allowed to be a work in progress in how you manage both. As you grow your awareness of this tension and experiment with small, compassionate adjustments, you give yourself the chance to experience independence and connection not as rivals but as partners in a life that feels more like it fits you.