The Mysterious Case of the Disappearing ADHD?

One common misconception about ADHD is that it only affects children—which is a little weird when you think about it. It’s not like my brain got the memo on my 18th birthday that it should suddenly start functioning like everyone else’s. There was no magical transformation, no neural puberty that corrected all my executive functioning issues.

So where does this myth come from?

It likely stems from the fact that ADHD is classified as a neurodevelopmental disorder, and people assume that “developmental” means you’ll eventually catch up. But that’s not what it means at all. A developmental disorder means your brain develops differently, not late. ADHD reflects a persistent pattern of inattention, hyperactivity, and/or impulsivity that interferes with functioning—not just a temporary delay.

Yes, it can look like ADHD goes away. On the surface, it may seem that the struggles from childhood vanish as someone matures. After all, some studies suggest that only about 60% of children diagnosed with ADHD continue to meet full criteria as adults. That leaves 40% who appear “symptom-free.” But are they really?

Studies Don't Always Tell the Full Story

Here’s the thing: many of these studies are based on observed behaviors, not internal experiences. They often fail to ask how people manage their symptoms.

For example, a survey might ask, “Can you complete tasks on time?” If the answer is “Yes,” it’s often taken at face value. But it doesn’t ask, “Are you relying on three calendar apps, color-coded spreadsheets, and a kitchen timer to complete them?”

It’s like saying someone using a wheelchair doesn’t have mobility issues—until you remove the ramp. The same principle applies to ADHD. Adults who no longer appear symptomatic often rely on an arsenal of coping tools and environmental supports to function effectively. Remove those supports, and the symptoms become visible again.

Coping Doesn't Equal Cure

Depending on my environment and life circumstances, I may have more—or less—difficulty with things like time management. Luckily, I’ve built a pretty decent toolbelt. I’ve got calendars, alarms, Post-its, and a good amount of stubbornness. Those tools help me get things done.

But they don’t eliminate the internal experience of ADHD. Yes, my taxes got filed on time—but the stress, anxiety, and executive overload it took to hit that April 15th deadline was probably far beyond what a neurotypical person might experience for the same task. So did my ADHD disappear? Or did I just get good at masking?

My bet is on the latter. That mysterious 40% of adults who no longer seem to have symptoms? Chances are, they’ve learned how to manage the disorder effectively. It’s not that ADHD vanished—it’s that these individuals built systems to work with their brains instead of constantly fighting against them.

And Then There’s the Other 60%

The 60% who still meet clinical criteria for ADHD in adulthood often lack effective coping mechanisms—or the support to implement them. Executive dysfunction continues to interfere with work, relationships, self-care, and daily responsibilities.

Even for those who had things mostly figured out, life transitions—like a new job or the birth of a child—can throw their systems into chaos. Suddenly, the old routines stop working. I’ve been there. Every time I changed jobs, I had to reinvent my task management system from scratch. What worked before? Useless now. Deadlines slipped, tasks piled up, and I felt like I was treading water with a lead backpack.

Eventually, I learned to stop throwing old tools at new problems and instead ask: “What does this environment demand from me, and how does my brain respond to those demands?” Once I figured that out, I could build supports that fit—instead of trying to squeeze myself into systems that didn’t.

So, Does ADHD Go Away?

Nope. But with time, support, and a little trial-and-error, many of us figure out how to manage it more effectively.

I don’t fight my ADHD anymore. I collaborate with it. That’s why it looks like I’m in that 40%—not because the disorder vanished, but because I finally understood how to live with it instead of pretending it wasn’t there.