This blog article is based on an ongoing study on ADHD and work life. At the time of writing, close to 300 individuals who have diagnosed ADHD and worklife experienced have responded on an open-ended questionnaire. The participants between 20 and 67 years old and live in Denmark, Norway, Sweden or Finland. The survey is still open and the data continues to grow.
The participants represent a wide range of professions and levels of responsibility. Many have worked for decades. There are nurses, teachers, engineers, IT specialists, social workers, managers, entrepreneurs, tradespeople and public sector employees. Some participants describe long careers with continuous employment, but for others we observe a common pattern is frequent changes of workplace, role or sector. From the outside, these work histories may appear fragmented or unstable.
But as we study the responses, a different picture begins to emerge. In fact, our data invites a closer look at whether these careers are truly broken up, or whether they are better understood as a series of adjustments made in order to cope with working conditions over time.
One factor stands out clearly: Job changes are rarely described as the result of weak motivation or lack of commitment. On the contrary, many respondents report entering new positions with strong engagement and high performance. It seems that difficulties develop gradually. The work tasks themselves are often manageable, but it is instead the surrounding structures that become progressively more demanding.
The stressors behind these movements seem to be constant interruptions at work, unclear priorities and schedules and overlapping responsibilities. Many reponses give the idea that workplaces pose an expectation of self-management but without offering sufficient support and structure for it. Many individuals describe that they have struggled and endured for years while trying to live up to the neurotypical workplace expectations. But for neurodivergent employees, and in this study those with ADHD, this kind of ambiguity requires constant compensatory effort. For many, it has meant a series of burnout, even clinical depression, and long-time absences from work.
Several participants report that they performed well and stayed longer in positions where work was clearly defined, expectations were explicit and responsibilities were concrete. Stability was possible when the structure of the job supported predictability. When these conditions disappeared, changing jobs became a way to preserve functioning rather than a sign of failure.
Our data shows that many participants have moved between employment and self-employment. This shift is often described as a response to exhaustion rather than ambition alone. Many note that entrepreneurship or project-based work offers greater control over time, workload and focus. For some, this flexibility has enabled longer participation in working life than traditional full-time employment would have allowed.
Another striking factor is delayed diagnosis. Many participants received their ADHD diagnosis in adulthood. Often, this has meant years of struggling at work without understanding why everyday tasks required so much effort. Before diagnosis, job changes were often interpreted by the individual as personal shortcomings. After diagnosis, the same history is reinterpreted as a series of attempts to find a more durable working arrangement.
Diagnosis is a key to clinical help, for instance, medication and cognitive therapy. Clearly, it has brought personal relief for many participants. They describe it gives reasons behind long-standing difficulties and has reduced self-blame. It is a new way of making sense of earlier experiences.
Diagnosis rarely leads to disclosure in the workplace. Only a small minority report having informed their employer about their ADHD. Stigma remains a significant concern. Even in cases of disclore, it does not automatically result in support. When employers were informed, many participants report that nothing changed in practice. The information was acknowledged but not acted upon. Thus, diagnosis brought, at first place, personal clarity but little improvement in working conditions.
Our findings challenges the assumption that frequent job changes indicate unreliability. Instead, they reflect a rational response to environments that do not accommodate neurological differences. From this perspective, the careers described in our data are not fragmented, but adaptive. What they actually show is continuous engagement with work, but combined with repeated attempts to reduce overload.
These findings suggest the central issue in the fragmented careers of ADHD-inviduals is not an inability to work, but a mismatch between how work is commonly organised and how some individuals function best. When work demands constant self-regulation and tolerance for ambiguity, the cost will accumulate. Job changes then become a necessary adjustment rather than an exception.
What do these findings tell us about becoming a neuroinclusive workplace?
First, there is a need for a more nuanced understanding of ADHD in working life. What enables someone with ADHD to function well at work is often small, concrete things, yet very individual. For one person, it may be clearly defined deadlines. For another, short, focused tasks or variation in pace. In many cases, relatively small adjustments can make a meaningful difference. This suggests that support is less about standard solutions and more about ongoing dialogue between the employee and their manager. Individuals with a neurodevelopmental condition may not always be able to clearly articulate what they need, especially in environments marked by high expectations and limited psychological safety. Needs may become visible only through trial and error. There needs to be an arena for a trust-based conversation, without fear of negative consequences.
Second, organisations need to build a culture around disclosure. Many respondents describe shame or hesitation related to their diagnosis, whether neurodevelopmental or related to mental health more broadly. This suggests that disclosure is an individual decision, but a cultural one. When diagnoses are treated as exceptional or sensitive information, silence becomes the safer option. Building a culture where such conditions can be spoken about as ordinary aspects of working life appears to lower the threshold for seeking support. This includes visible examples, shared language and accessible channels for peer support.
Author: Heini Pensar
