“I thought I was just really good at pretending to be normal. Turns out, I was really good at exhausting myself.”
If you’ve spent decades holding yourself together — smiling at the right moments, writing lists so you seem organised, laughing when you’re actually confused — you’ve been masking. Most women with ADHD do. Many don’t know it until diagnosis (often mid-life), when someone finally explains: masking is the invisible labour of covering up ADHD traits to blend in.
But once you spot the mask, there’s a new, tricky question: Now what?
The internet can make unmasking sound like a liberation march — “throw off the mask and be your true self!” — but reality is knottier. For some, dropping the act is healing. For others, it’s risky — socially, professionally, even financially. This piece is here for the nuance: the cost of staying hidden, the dangers of rushing out, and a safer way to find your authentic self.
Why We Mask (and Why Women Become Olympic Champions at It)
Masking isn’t about deceit. It’s a survival adaptation — a way the brain tries to stay safe in a world built for neurotypical people. From early childhood, many of us learn that our natural behaviour — blurting out ideas, fidgeting, forgetting instructions — can lead to punishment, shame or social rejection. So we adapt: we study how others act and copy them; we rehearse what to say so we don’t interrupt; we smile and nod when we’re lost; we work twice as hard to look “together.” Over time, these micro-adjustments become automatic. They help us avoid criticism, keep jobs, and fit in — but at the cost of enormous mental energy and sometimes a fading sense of who we really are.
Culture rewards ‘good girl energy.’ Many of us learned early: don’t be loud, don’t interrupt, don’t lose your homework. So we built quiet workarounds — sticky notes, frantic apologising, perfectionism.
Fear of judgment. If you’ve ever been told you’re lazy, careless, or “too much,” masking becomes armour.
Neurobiology at play. The ADHD brain constantly self-monitors (“don’t blurt,” “look focused,” “smile now”). That self-editing eats executive function like Pac-Man eats dots.
“I wasn’t faking. I was protecting myself. But it came with a price tag I didn’t see until later.” — late-diagnosed coaching client.
The Hidden Costs of Long-Term Masking
Masking works — until it doesn’t. In the short term it helps you keep friendships, pass exams, hold down a job, and avoid the sting of judgment. But the longer you maintain it, the heavier the cost becomes — mentally and emotionally. Eventually the effort to look “fine” starts to outpace the energy you have, and the cracks begin to show.
Burnout. Constant hypervigilance drains dopamine and energy. People describe it as “social hangover” or “living with a hidden second job.”
Identity confusion. Years of pretending can leave you unsure who you really are. Do you even like your career, or did you pick it because it looked safe?
Mental health fallout. Anxiety, depression, and “I’m failing at being me” narratives flourish under the mask.
Relationship misalignment. You may attract partners or friends who like the performance version of you — then feel lonely once the act slips.
Unmasking: Hope, Relief… and Real Risks
Unmasking isn’t all sunshine. After years of performing competence or calm, suddenly showing your real pace, quirks, and needs can feel exposing and unpredictable. The world doesn’t always reward vulnerability — friends may be confused, workplaces may not be ready, and even family can struggle to adjust to a “new” version of you. That’s why unmasking is both hopeful and risky; it can bring deep relief but also unexpected friction if the environment isn’t safe or informed.
Benefits when it’s safe:
Authentic connection — friends and partners know you.
Less cognitive load — no acting script running in the background.
Better career fit — you choose work that suits your brain.
Risks if it’s rushed or unsupported:
Workplace bias. Disclosure can trigger microaggressions or lost opportunities.
Social backlash. Some friends/family interpret change as rejection (“you’ve changed!”).
Cultural stigma. In certain communities, ADHD isn’t well understood — difference can mean danger or isolation.
“I told my boss, thinking it would help. Instead, my workload didn’t change but the gossip did.” — reader comment, ADHD Insight Hub survey
When Masking is Still Protective (and That’s Okay)
We live in real systems with real prejudice. Sometimes the mask is a shield, not a shame. It’s a way of protecting yourself when the space around you isn’t safe or understanding. For example, you might keep certain ADHD traits hidden in a strict workplace to avoid unfair judgment or in a family that dismisses mental health differences to prevent conflict. The goal isn’t to deny who you are but to stay safe and functional until you’re in a place — or with people — who can handle the truth.
Job interviews. If you need income, selective masking is strategic.
Uninformed spaces. If disclosure would invite harm, protect yourself first.
Family dynamics. You might unmask with one sibling but keep armour on with a critical parent.
Authenticity isn’t all-or-nothing; think of it as a dimmer switch, not a light you flip.
A Smart Safety-First Approach to Unmasking
Here’s a simple decision framework you can try — not rigid rules, just practical guardrails.
1. Audit your masks.
Make two lists: where you feel safe (close friend, online ADHD group) vs. where you constantly self-monitor (work meetings, in-laws, community).
Ask: What am I hiding? What’s it costing me?
2. Assess risk in each context.
How informed/supportive are these people?
What would happen if they reacted badly — financially, emotionally?
Do you have backup (HR policy, legal protection, a therapist)?
3. Experiment with partial unmasking.
Try a low-stakes reveal. For example:
At work: “I use notes and timers because my brain processes info differently.”
With friends: “I get overwhelmed by group chats; slower replies don’t mean I don’t care.”
4. Build a support net.
Before big disclosures, have safe people ready — a coach, therapist, ADHD forum, or one trusted friend.
5. Monitor and adjust.
If an attempt backfires, step back; it’s not failure, it’s data.
Recovery if Unmasking Goes Wrong
Sometimes you’ll share and regret it. That’s not the end of the story — it’s just a sign that the environment wasn’t as safe as you hoped, not proof that being yourself was wrong. People’s reactions often come from their own misunderstanding or fear rather than your worth or truth. Feeling hurt or exposed is natural, but it doesn’t mean you can’t try again later or in a different way. Unmasking is a skill you build over time; one uncomfortable attempt isn’t a permanent failure, it’s data you can use to choose safer spaces and better language next time.
Re-mask temporarily. Give yourself space to heal. Authenticity doesn’t mean bleeding in public.
Reframe & reset boundaries. “I shared too much, too soon. That’s okay — I learned something.”
Seek counter-narratives. Spend time with people who do get it; rebuild confidence.
Culture Matters More Than You Think
Growing up in Serbia, I learned “don’t stand out.” Moving to the UK, I discovered difference can be valued — but only in certain circles. Culture shapes risk.
If your environment is skeptical or dismissive (“ADHD isn’t real”), tread gently. If you’re in a neurodiversity-aware workplace, go further. Authenticity isn’t universal currency; it’s local.
Final Reframe: Masking Was Survival, Not Failure
If you’ve worn a mask, it means you adapted. You stayed safe long enough to get here, reading this, considering new ways to live. That’s strength.
Now you can choose — selectively, safely, in your own time — what parts of the mask to lay down. Not because the internet says “be raw,” but because you deserve to live without the constant second job of pretending.
Practical Next Steps
Read next: When Your Brain Says ‘No More’: Understanding Burnout in ADHD and Neurodivergent People
Try: A “masking audit” — list 3 places you feel safest to show real ADHD traits.
Support: JJoin an ADHD community, coaching group, or talk with a therapist before major disclosures — and if finding someone local feels hard, consider Online-Therapy.com (#ad)
