By Kelly Stratton
When people hear the phrase “family secrets,” they often picture dramatic scandals or hidden betrayals. Unfortunately, for many of us who are neurodivergent, the deepest secrets we keep are within ourselves.
They are the ways we mask, minimize, or hide our needs to survive in a world that misunderstands us.
For me, those secrets started long before I even knew the word ADHD.
ADHD and Family Secrets
I did not receive a diagnosis until I was 37, and by then, I had already spent decades carrying confusion and shame without language for what I was experiencing.
Forgetfulness, disorganization and emotional intensity were seen as personal flaws. My bursts of creativity and energy were sometimes celebrated but just as often criticized. Without a diagnosis, I absorbed the belief that I was broken.
When you grow up neurodivergent, you learn early that you are “too much.” Too loud, too scattered, too sensitive, too forgetful, too intense. That belief seeps into everything. It makes you work harder to mask, to apologize, to shrink yourself.
It also makes you forgive flaws in others more easily, because deep down you wish the same grace would be given to you. But keeping family secrets, and undiagnosed neurodivergence doesn’t mean you WILL suffer abuse. It just means you are at a higher risk.
How Neurodivergence and Abuse Co-Exist
That pattern of over-forgiving and excusing harm sets the stage for unhealthy relationships. What should be a red flag to you, instead feels like something you can tolerate.
That belief made me especially vulnerable to abuse. Abusers are skilled at finding insecurities and turning them into weapons.
My ADHD traits became targets.
Forgetting something was twisted into proof that I could not be trusted. Struggling with daily tasks was framed as laziness. Sensitivity and strong emotions were called overreactions. Gaslighting landed harder because I already questioned my memory and judgment.
Slowly, I was convinced that I was the problem, and the relationship itself became another secret I carried.
Abuse thrives in silence, or family secrets, and neurodivergence can make that silence even heavier. For survivors with ADHD or other forms of neurodivergence, the very traits that make us unique are often used against us. What the world should see as creativity, passion, and resilience instead becomes ammunition in the hands of someone who wants to control us.
The Data Speaks for Itself
Research shows that neurodivergent survivors are at higher risk of abuse. Here.
This is not because there is anything wrong with us. It is because society has taught us to mask, to apologize for existing, and to accept blame when others exploit our vulnerabilities. Those lessons, reinforced for years, create openings for abusers to step in.
Receiving my diagnosis didn’t erase my past, nor did it protect me from the abusive relationship that followed. What it did do, however, at the ripe age of 43, was give me a framework to finally understand it.
It reminded me that my struggles weren’t signs of being broken. They were signs that I needed understanding and support. Most importantly, it gave me permission to stop hiding.
The Abuse Is Not Your Fault
If you are reading this and you recognize yourself in these words, please know this: your differences are not the problem. You are not unreliable, unworthy, or too much. Most importantly, you are certainly not alone.
Our childhood struggles may have taught us to stay quiet. Abuse may have reinforced that silence. But the truth is this: our voices are powerful, our experiences matter and our survival is proof of strength. Speaking out is not just breaking the silence. It is building a community where every neurodivergent survivor can be seen, heard, and believed.
