As a parent and advocate with firsthand experience navigating mental health challenges, I understand how critical early recognition and support are, especially for young people. My journey, from undiagnosed ADHD as a child to finally receiving treatment as an adult, has deepened my commitment to addressing youth mental health issues. The following piece highlights the personal challenges I faced due to undiagnosed ADHD in a time when girls were often overlooked in mental health conversations. It also underscores why I’m passionate about reporting on youth mental health, helping to destigmatize these challenges and advocating for the resources young people need to thrive.

How I Became So Relentlessly Optimistic

I have interviewed some of the biggest names in news—Hillary Clinton, John McCain, top congressional leaders, famous athletes, entertainers, leading medical professionals, and more. I am no stranger to pressure, nor do I avoid it. In fact, I thrive on it. My default setting is to do more, be more, and offer more.

Now, more than ever, after years in front of and behind the camera and raising my three boys, I am eager to jump back into my service-centered work. My work ethic has always been strong but wasn’t without challenges. After receiving a diagnosis of ADHD, I am finally being treated and have the wherewithal to truly move mountains.

When I was born in 1979, the field of pediatric mental illness and learning disabilities was in its infancy. Doctors had, by then, recognized what we know today as Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. They called it Attention Deficit Disorder and divided it into two subcategories: with hyperactivity and without hyperactivity. Among those diagnosed with the disability at the time, nearly all were boys. So, when my mother brought me, then in preschool, to see the pediatrician about my ‘hyperactiveness,’ he told her I would outgrow it and that girls do not “get” hyperactive disorder.

In the years following, throughout elementary school, teachers discussed my inability to focus with my parents. My mother was told, “Kristin is very bright, but she ‘zones out’ for most of the day.” They had the same evaluation almost every year.

Growing up in the 1980s, Individualized Education Programs and 504s for qualifying students were in their early years. However, the operative word is ‘qualifying,’ and I did not. Why? When doctors told my mother that I, being a girl, couldn’t be diagnosed with a learning disability, she left it at that. And knowing that I was, in fact, ‘bright,’ she, too, hoped I would outgrow my hyperactive, spacey, forgetful, unfocused behavior.

Girls usually didn’t qualify for the same diagnosis as boys largely because the focus of research on these conditions was mainly on boys. Therefore, girls wouldn’t start to qualify for the protections and accommodations laid out in IEPs and 504s until the study of this learning disability was prioritized in both genders. For me, that was far too little too late.

I struggled throughout middle school, even failing 7th-grade math, and spent my summer break in summer school. I eked through until high school when some good friendships took hold, and I was happier and more stable. However, getting passing grades was an ongoing battle.

I was consistently overwhelmed by the tasks I had to complete, and doing homework was more than I could handle. My mother was terrified I wouldn’t be accepted into college. She took drastic action, the only thing she knew to do: she grounded me every school night from phone calls, going to friend’s houses, and reading my teen magazines, and insisted that every piece of homework was completed and checked. This effort took quite a bit of bandwidth for a mom with five kids.

Thank goodness for her. My grades began to turn around, and I became a mainly B student. It was her way of providing me with the accommodations I needed but wasn’t receiving in school. I was accepted to one of the highest-ranked private universities in the country. I cannot express how grateful I was and continue to be for my mother’s strength and advocacy when I needed it.

Unfortunately, without an ADHD diagnosis, I continued my battle with an undiagnosed learning disability that I did not even understand. In my freshman year, I was placed on an academic restoration program. If I did not improve my grades by the end of that year, I would not be welcomed back for my sophomore year.

I improved my grades just enough to escape that academic hole and returned to finish my degree. It was not easy, but I got the necessary credits to graduate on time in 2002 with a Bachelor of Arts in Journalism and Mass Communication.

My career as a television news reporter began successfully. However, I switched to a communications writing and editing role with a compassionate Charity Navigator 4-star-rated nonprofit.

In 2012, I had twin boys. My ability to handle the emotional rollercoaster of raising them was not always successful. I realize that is true for many mothers. However, one of my boys had some learning disabilities and another condition called Chiari Malformation. It was an incredibly tumultuous journey raising twin babies when one of them had a condition entirely unfamiliar to my husband and me. The journey to discovery was a long one.

In 2019, our son had surgery to correct that malformation. He became so much happier almost overnight. But in school, he continued to struggle. After visits with his pediatrician and a pediatric neurologist, he was diagnosed with ADHD and began receiving the accommodations in school he needed. It wasn’t until that diagnosis that I realized he probably got the condition from me.

The epiphany of discovering the cause of my educational problems and emotional dysregulation was life-altering. I finally had an answer. I now know that I have gone through life with an undiagnosed learning disability. How would the trajectory of my education, career, and life choices have changed if only I had known sooner?

In April 2024, I finally received an official ADHD diagnosis. I cannot fully describe the validation I now feel for a lifetime of struggles. I am also on a treatment plan that is proving tremendously helpful. The cobwebs in my mind are gone, the memory files are fully operational, and the once-flickering light is now a robust beam of fully formed thoughts, opinions, and knowledge. I am so excited for the rest of my life and all I have to offer. I have the life experience, motivation, and, finally, the treatment to achieve my life goals successfully.

My drive to pursue mental wellness stems from several strong factors. One is a personal struggle with misdiagnosis. I have been diagnosed with depression, anxiety, and even bipolar disorder. It was all wrong. I did have a lot of trauma triggered by an event in my family’s life that I will discuss, and a diagnosis of depression and even PTSD may have been appropriate. But for the majority of my symptoms, I was misdiagnosed. I should have been screened for ADHD, which co-existed with some of the comorbidities I was experiencing.

Another contributing factor to my passion for this field is inspired by my brother. He was diagnosed with Schizophrenia while a sophomore at the University of Vermont. He was a star lacrosse player, had a girlfriend, and good friends. After winter break that year, he couldn’t go back. That was nearly 20 years ago, and the trauma lives on. So does the journey to keep him safe, healthy, and connected to family.

There is fear among those who do not understand mental illness or learning disabilities. That is why stigma persists. My journey to end stigma and the resulting discrimination continues, and my drive to be a part of the solution is fierce. Continuing to serve those in need is a driving force in my life.

My story does not end here. I am ready to help put an end to some of the most pervasive discriminatory practices of our time, starting with discrimination against those with mental illness as well as undiagnosed and newly diagnosed learning disabilities.

Social change never comes easily, but I am deeply invested in creating a better future through the launch of my new job search, volunteer efforts, and, of course, the open thoughtfulness with which I raise my boys.

Reflecting on my own story, I see so many parallels in today’s youth mental health crisis. Young people, like I once was, often face similar struggles in an environment that can still overlook or misunderstand their needs. This is why I am driven to report on youth mental health, to amplify stories that not only highlight the challenges young people face but also shed light on solutions that empower them, their families, and their communities. I believe that through thoughtful, solutions-oriented journalism, we can help create a more supportive and understanding environment for the next generation.