This blog post is adapted from Episode 110 of the Grandma Has ADHD podcast with Kim Shea, senior living guide, retirement coach, and author of Dare to Plan Your Aging Experience.
Kim Shea found out she has ADHD at my table at an aging expo.
I had a photo of a cluttered desk on display, and she stopped to look at it. "Huh," she said. "That looks kind of like my desk at home." I asked if she had ADHD. She said no. I told her she didn't have to be defensive about it.
She went back to her own table and kept thinking about it. Her son has ADHD, and she remembered filling out the questionnaire so he could be evaluated. She realized she could have answered yes to every one of those questions for herself, too. "It was mind-blowing to me," she told me. "But now that I know more, it just makes sense."
If you've been listening for a while, you know that the conversations I love most happen right where aging, caregiving, and ADHD overlap. This one lives there.
Tell me you have ADHD without telling me you have it
Kim has worked with older adults since 2003, as a caregiver, as an activities coordinator at a skilled nursing home, as a blogger and podcaster, and as a retirement coach. For the past 11 years she's run her own practice, Game Changing Counseling Services, helping older adults and their families find senior living that fits. She also facilitates discussion circles, because loneliness is one of the most under-talked-about parts of growing older.
When I read her bio on the air, she laughed. "Tell me you have it without telling me you have it." Exactly. Several careers, a book, a podcast, a practice, and a calendar full of things she's excited about. If you have ADHD, you know that bio.
Like so many women of our generation, Kim has not been formally diagnosed. She discovered it later in life, the way I did and the way so many of my guests have.
Why that word "disorder" is such a hard sell
I told Kim that I have a hard time not telling people I think they might have ADHD. Some are open to it. Some get defensive, and I think a lot of that is generational. My own mom still has friends who insist she doesn't have it. She knows she does. We both picture a hyperactive little boy when we hear "ADHD," and then there's the stigma that comes with a mental health label. My mom says if it didn't have the word "disorder" in it, it would be a lot easier to accept. Dr. Ned Hallowell has said it should be called a "distorter," because we distort so much reality. I love that.
Kim has run a mental health practice for a long time, and she sees the same defensiveness in older adults. Her answer to the stigma is one I'm going to borrow. When someone jokes that they might have ADHD, she says, "Yeah, I do, too." She treats it like a "join the club" moment instead of a confession. "It's going to take time," she said, "but I think just talking about it is really helpful."
The good girl nobody worried about
I asked Kim what her report cards would have looked like. In first grade she won "girl of the week" all the time, because she was quiet and well-behaved. But academically, things were harder. She had to reread paragraphs and whole chapters again and again to take the information in. She forgot to pass along messages. She didn't think any of it was unusual, because she wasn't the kid who couldn't sit still.
That's exactly why so many girls got missed. We weren't behavior problems. I didn't know that rereading things over and over wasn't something everyone had to do, either. In college, if I wanted to fall asleep, I just opened a textbook.
What changes once you know
Kim said knowing makes her open to new ways of organizing her life. In middle school, she took an organizational boot camp with her son and came away with a color system for her lists: red for urgent, yellow for what can wait. Her lists are long (she has more than one), so the colors help. She also works on cutting things out that aren't truly important and being more realistic about what she can actually get done.
I'm learning the same thing. When something new grabs my attention, I now stop and ask, "If I pursue this, what goes off the list?" Before, I never asked. I just added.
Please don't "place" my mother
Kim doesn't call herself a "placement professional," which is the industry term, and I told her I'm not a fan of it either. "It sounds like people are an object," she said. It's about finding a new home, and that's a big deal.
Her approach is a good example of an ADHD-friendly process, whether she'd call it that or not. She sits down with people, figures out what they're looking for and whether they're actually ready, and then takes them to just a few places, because seeing more than one or two gets overwhelming fast. She looks for communities within budget that leave room to grow, since rent rises as care needs increase. "I'd hate to have somebody that I have helped find a home come back to me in a year or two and say, 'I'm priced out.'"
I asked whether she ever tells clients she suspects ADHD. Usually not, because with her population there are other factors, including dementia. But sometimes, after listening, she'll say, "It could be some ADHD, too. You might want to talk with your doctor." That can be a relief. A mutual friend of ours, Dan, who owns a home care company, once feared he had early-onset dementia in his 40s. When he got evaluated and learned it was ADHD, he was relieved. The two can look alike on the surface, which is exactly why it's worth asking a doctor rather than guessing. Kim put it well: "To think I have ADHD, you can live with that. You can work with that and be part of a larger community that's going to be accepting of you."
Dare to Plan Your Aging Experience
I couldn't wait to talk about Kim's book. Dare to Plan Your Aging Experience: An Insider's Guide and Workbook to Discover What Matters to You is part guidebook and part workbook. Kim tells stories about people she's met and things she's seen over the years, then asks questions so readers can write down what they actually want. Someday, they can hand it to their kids and say, "If I can't communicate, this is what I want.
Every chapter covers a different age-related topic from multiple angles, so readers can make decisions based on reality and have a plan B and plan C. She includes pointers on things people don't talk about enough: if you dream of retiring abroad, don't just pack up and go, live there for a while first. If you're dating later in life, be careful, because there are scammers who make their living this way, and Kim has known people who lost thousands of dollars. And your adult kids may not welcome a new partner the way you'd welcome theirs, which she calls a natural double standard worth talking about. Each chapter also has a caregiver takeaway, because the people doing the caring need support too.
I asked how it felt to write a book with ADHD. Kim's answer is a gift to anyone who has a project they can't seem to finish. A friend who was also writing a book suggested they meet on Zoom once a week for an hour and write. "If I had to do this by myself, I don't think the book would be done now."
That's body doubling, and it's one of the most effective tools I know. Kim figured out the accommodation herself.
The button question
Every guest gets my button question: if you could push a button and not have ADHD, would you? Kim said no. "I come up with a lot of good ideas. They don't all succeed, but I'm a very creative person and I enjoy that." Then she added that she'd rather bring in somebody like me to help with the coaching.
I'm also quick to say this isn't everyone's answer. I see both ends of ADHD: the overachiever who can't slow down, and the person who couldn't finish school and never got the understanding they needed. For them, it's no gift, and I want to be sensitive to that. There are people who would push that button in a heartbeat.
Grief and relief, and why a later diagnosis matters
Almost everyone who finds out later in life describes the same pair of feelings: grief for what might have been, and relief at finally having an explanation. My mom and I talked about this. When I asked if she was glad she knew, she said, "Absolutely."
I also wanted to say something about why someone might pursue an evaluation later in life, even if they never want medication. ADHD can occur alongside other conditions, and knowing what's going on helps. This is a fast-moving field. We're learning about AuDHD, and emotional dysregulation, which is such a big part of ADHD for many of us, isn't even part of the formal diagnostic criteria. In my words, it's the Wild Wild West.
I've also noticed that many women don't realize they have ADHD until perimenopause or menopause, or until retirement, or until the busy scaffolding of work and raising kids falls away. When you stop going, going, going, the patterns show up. So what do you do with that time if you're lucky enough to retire? We need something to point that ADHD energy at.
Kim's advice to anyone wondering: "If you even think there's a possibility you have it, it's definitely worth exploring. Don't be afraid about it. It's just part of who we are." And if you do have it, bring in support. "I think you'll feel good if your life's in more order."
Clutter, compassion, and picking your battle zones
We ended up where Kim and I always do: stuff. Kim sees homes where things have sat in the same spot for years and nobody has picked them up. She thinks part of that might be the "shiny thing" effect, where the fun new project wins over the maintenance.
I think it's also desensitization. Have you ever walked into a home and immediately smelled the pet? The people who live there don't notice. Clutter works the same way. We live with it every day, so we stop seeing it. That was true for my mom and me before we understood ADHD. Her clutter was a real source of tension between us. Now we have a sense of humor about it, and I find things from my childhood that I'd completely forgotten.
For couples who disagree about clutter, I tell them to pick their battle zones. Choose the area that affects you most and let the rest go. In my house, it's the kitchen: I like clear countertops. The nightstand and chair next to the bed belong to someone else, and I don't look at them anymore. You're never going to get everything you want from a partner.
Kim had a closing thought for caregivers that I want everyone to hear. When an older adult is afraid of having to move and not being able to take their things with them, come at it with compassion. Those belongings carry meaning. It's easy to say, "You've got to get rid of all this stuff," but it's usually better to bring in someone else whose job is to help, because you may be too close to have a productive conversation. I would add that parents don't want to be parented by their children. They want to keep their role as the parent. Give them as much autonomy as you can, and don't steamroll.
Find Kim
Website: seniorlg.com (that's "senior living guide"), where you can also find her email, kimshea@seniorlg.com
Her book: Dare to Plan Your Aging Experience: An Insider's Guide and Workbook to Discover What Matters to You, available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and her publisher's site, BookBaby
Ready for support?
If you saw yourself, or your mom, in Kim's story:
Listen to the full episode of Grandma Has ADHD wherever you get your podcasts. If you enjoy it, please like and share it so it reaches more people who need it.
Read my book, This Explains So Much, available on Amazon in print and audio.
Try clutter coaching. This is something new I'm excited to offer. I come to your home, look at what's going on, talk through why the piles are there, and share some understanding of ADHD along with coaching. Then we make a plan, and there's accountability. For many of us, hiring someone to do it for us isn't enough. We need to understand what it takes to keep it.
Talk to me. I offer a free 15-minute discovery call for ADHD and clutter coaching.
It is never too late to make the rest of your life the best of your life.
— Jami Shapiro, CSMM, CSA, Founder of Silver Linings Transitions, ADHD Coach, and host of the Grandma Has ADHD podcast
