As a 40yo cis woman who was only diagnosed with ADHD a few years ago and also has mama trauma, I want to share my thoughts on some of the most common critiques or comments I’ve read.

#1: “She’s 28yo but she speaks like a teenager.” #2: “Yeah girl, your thoughts always stray and your environment in chaos? You have ADHD.” #3: Mama Trauma

I’ve read statements that allude to immature writing, “too casual” writing, or immaturity in the FMC, Mariel. Could any of these be true? Sure. Could some of the dialogue choices be “what we (society) expect from a 28yo”? Sure. Could the writing be a little more mature, a little more thought-provoking? Sure.

But I just sat here and questioned if the word “allude” that I typed above was correct, in both spelling and definition. I even googled it. Why? Because ADHD brain and perimenopause together make my brain feel like mush, like I’m 8yo again or incredibly stupid. I forget words, simple ones. I used to write 10-15 page papers on difficult topics so fucking easily, and now I can’t write a basic email or Slack message without second guessing word choices, grammatical structure, etc.

Those of us who were late diagnosed can probably look back on our lives and see the signs that were absolutely clear, but were overlooked—whether it was due to lack of knowledge by our parents or teachers, lack of access to healthcare, and/or because we were girls whose ADHD maybe didn’t have the same sort of physical manifestations that it did in boys.

But also, when a child—especially a girl—grows up with a mother like Diantha? She learns over time that she can’t trust herself or her choices. She may or may not have the emotional maturity she “should” at various ages because of her narcissistic, emotionally unavailable mother. She learns that she does not have a safe place in her mom. She adapts and finds her own way of doing things, her own safe corner of the world. She learns to keep her thoughts and feelings to herself because they’ll just be ridiculed and she’ll be shamed. She learns to mask, even if she doesn’t realize that’s what she’s doing. She either jumps headfirst into perfectionism and rigidity—into how she “should be for her age”—to try to earn love and respect, or she runs in the other direction entirely and becomes the exact opposite. Subconsciously or consciously. Maybe she’s somewhere between the two, restless and chaotic but not knowing what to do. Maybe she’s stuck.

I was Mariel in some ways. I am her in others. Sometimes I feel like my brain is a teenager’s brain. Like I was forced to grow up too quickly with ridiculous expectations and pressure put on me by the adults in my life and society as a whole, so I never got the chance to just…be. To be me. To learn who “me” even is. To experience. So I did what I was told, what was expected.

Until the dam broke one day and the mask I didn’t realize I was wearing was ripped off, and that was that. It was like I was experiencing teenage rebellion in my 30s. Why? Because I finally felt safe? Because I was finally trying to come into my own, to figure out who I am? Because I realized that I had mama trauma and how it impacted literally every part of my life, I just didn’t realize it?

And hell, my inner and outer dialogue often sounds like Mariel most days. When you grow up keeping things to yourself because your words aren’t protected and treasured—they’re used against you—you what? Mask. Hide. And then when that mask comes off, it’s hard to put it back on because you feel free for maybe the first time. Your inside thoughts maybe become outside thoughts. You stop hiding your weird.

None of this may make any sense at all. But I think if we look at who Mariel is and HOW she is who she is, and compare that against our own experiences or knowledge of how influential mothers are over their daughters (especially mothers who are emotionally unavailable or not emotionally intelligent), how ADHD in girls and women usually shows up and the stigma and shame around it, and how both of those things work in harmony to create chaos, self-doubt, self-deprecation, and the struggle to find yourself…yeah, we have a Mariel.

We have a me. A you. A her. A them.

So maybe there are some “better” choices that could have been made in terms of writing style, vocabulary, etc. But…what if the choices that were made are why Mariel is relatable?

“That was the thing about allowing others' voices to leave an impression inside of your mind; it started as theirs and then the more it was allowed ground it morphed into a more familiar voice, one it was hard to demand it leave as it was your own.”

OUCH. But so damn true, especially for women. 🥺😭