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Why women with ADHD are diagnosed so late - and what it really costs them

  • Writer: Emma Kearns
    Emma Kearns
  • May 19
  • 8 min read

Updated: May 20

A graphic of a dark night sky with millions of different sized golden stars

I recently came across a statistic that stopped me in my tracks. Did you know that women with ADHD get their diagnosis almost 5 years later than men? This was presented at a major European psychiatry congress in 2025.


I can't say I was surprised by this. After 20 years working in this field, and as someone who has navigated her own neurodivergent journey, I am this statistic - I still don't have the formal diagnosis. I’ve also heard the same story again and again from nearly all of women I work with. But seeing it quantified like this made me want to write about it, not just as a professional, but as something who has lived it.


Because behind that statistic are real women. Women who spent years being told they were too anxious, too ditzy, too much, or not enough. These women have built elaborate invisible scaffolding around themselves just to get through the day, and assumed everyone else was doing the same. Women who are only now, in their thirties or forties or later, getting an answer to a question they didn’t even know they were asking.


ADHD diagnosis in women: a fourfold rise and we’re still only seeing part of the picture


The numbers around women and ADHD diagnosis in the UK have shifted dramatically in recent years. NHS data shows that recorded diagnoses in women rose from 0.2% of the population in 2016/17 to 0.9% in 2024/25. That may sound small until you realise it represents a more than fourfold increase in under a decade, and I would bet my love of chocolate that is a drastic underestimation.


Current estimates suggest only around one in nine people in the UK who have ADHD have ever received a formal diagnosis. Which means the other eight are out there somewhere , managing, compensating, wondering why life feels harder than it looks like it should.


Among younger women the acceleration is even more pronounced. In the 20 to 24 age group, diagnosis rates have more than doubled compared with pre-pandemic levels. 


And yet the response - scepticism. A surge in diagnoses, the argument goes, must mean something is wrong, over-diagnosis, social media contagion, people seeking labels they don’t need. I want to address that head on, because I think it fundamentally misunderstands what is actually happening.


Why women with ADHD weren’t built into the research and why that matters


Here is something that should probably be more widely known: like many diagnostic criteria and medical research for most of the twentieth century, ADHD was studied almost exclusively in boys (of course it was). This criteria guided clinicians who have been using it ever since. The criteria built around what ADHD looks like in a male child. Restless, impulsive, loud, disruptive. This criteria and portrayol of ADHD was one of the reasons it took me so long to, one - recognise myself as having ADHD and two - speak, somewhat loudly, about it.


I was none of those things as a child. I was quiet and conscientious and I worked incredibly hard. What nobody saw was the effort that required, or the fact that I’d developed a whole private system of workarounds before I was ten years old. I didn’t match the picture. So nobody looked further.


I would like to say this is unusual - it isn't. For girls, ADHD tends to present as something far more internal, a mind that is has 100's of tabs open all at once, a sensitivity to everything, an exhaustion that doesn’t make sense given how little you appear to have done. It gets mistaken for personality, temperament, laziness or anxiety.


The 3:1 ratio of ADHD diagnoses in boys versus girls during childhood is not, I believe, a reflection of how often the condition occurs. It is a reflection of how it was defined, and who was in the room when the definition was written.


ADHD masking in women: when survival looks like coping


I want to talk about masking, because I think it’s the piece of this puzzle that is most often misunderstood, and the one that has the most personal resonance for me.

Masking, in this context, means learning to hide the way your brain works. It happens so gradually you don't even know its happening, often starting in childhood, and for many women it becomes so automatic that they genuinely don’t know they’re doing it. You learn to hold still when every part of you wants to move (a real challenge when sitting on endless teams meetings). You learn to filter and self edit the thoughts that come out of your mouth and let the socially acceptable ones through. You learn to look like you’re keeping up, even when internally you’re running twice as fast just to stay in place.


For girls especially, this is reinforced from an early age. The social expectations placed on us, to be organised, emotionally regulated, compliant, considerate, have a way of pushing ADHD symptoms underground. Not out of existence. Underground.

The cost of that, over years and decades, is significant. I’ve seen it in the women I work with, and I’ve felt it myself. Chronic exhaustion that rest doesn’t fix. A persistent low-level sense of fraudulence, the feeling that you’re only keeping things together through constant effort, and that one day someone will notice. Relationships that are harder than they should be, because so much of your bandwidth is already spent just functioning.


Misdiagnosis of ADHD in women: seeking help and getting the wrong answer


One of the things I find most difficult about the way women with ADHD have been treated by healthcare systems is this: they did seek help. They went to their GP. They sat in therapy. They tried the medication for anxiety and the techniques for depression and the advice about sleep hygiene and stress management. They did everything right.


The problem wasn’t that they didn’t ask. It’s that the question being answered wasn’t quite the right one.


Unmanaged ADHD in women produces a recognisable set of secondary effects - anxiety, low mood, burnout, fractured self-esteem - that are real, and that absolutely warrant support. But they are effects. And when only the effects are treated, there’s a ceiling on how much better things can get. The women I work with often describe years of feeling like they were almost getting there, but never quite. That gap - between nearly better and actually better - is frequently where an unidentified ADHD sits.


I’ve had women tell me they felt guilty even considering that their anxiety might not be the whole story. As if questioning a diagnosis was somehow ungrateful, or dramatic. But asking whether something has been missed is not dramatic. After everything these women have been through, it’s the most reasonable question in the world.


The real cost of undiagnosed ADHD in women


I don’t want to be alarmist, but I also don’t want to understate this. The consequences of unrecognised ADHD in women are not trivial, and the research is becoming increasingly clear on this point.


A significant study using UK primary care data, published in The British Journal of Psychiatry, found that women with diagnosed ADHD had a reduction in life expectancy of 8.64 years compared to women in the general population. That figure is larger than the equivalent for men. The researchers linked it to a cluster of health and lifestyle factors -  financial instability, higher rates of smoking, reduced exercise, poorer nutrition - that are themselves shaped by years of unmanaged ADHD and the chronic stress that accompanies it.


I think about this not as a frightening statistic, but as a motivating one. Because the word the researchers used matters: modifiable. These are not fixed outcomes. They are the result of unmet need. Meet the need earlier, and the picture changes.

That is what earlier recognition - and the right kind of support - can actually do.


Rising ADHD diagnoses in women


I said I’d come back to the scepticism, and I will. Because I think the narrative that frames rising ADHD diagnosis rates as suspicious or concerning has it exactly backwards.


The women being identified now are not newly neurodivergent. They have been living with this for their entire lives. What has changed is not the prevalence of the condition but the availability of a framework that finally includes them - better awareness among some clinicians, more visible communities where women share their experiences, a broader cultural conversation that has made it safer to ask the question.


The stars in the night sky were not created when we invented the telescope. They were simply, finally, seen.


The increase in diagnoses is not evidence of a system being gamed. It is evidence of a system beginning - slowly, imperfectly -  to correct for decades of oversight. The right response is not to pull back, but to resource the recognition properly, and make sure that what follows a diagnosis is actually useful.


Getting support for ADHD as a woman: what happens when you finally have the right map


I’m going to be honest here, because I think it matters: a diagnosis does not fix everything. It doesn’t erase the years before it, or automatically translate into knowing what to do next. For many women, the moment of recognition is followed quite quickly by a new kind of bewilderment - a sense of not knowing where to start, or how to apply this new understanding to a life that was already mid-way through.


That is exactly where I come in, and it’s the work I find most meaningful.

At Seren, I work with women at every stage of this - those with a formal diagnosis, those who are self-identified, and those who are still somewhere in the middle, sitting with a growing suspicion that something has been missed. What I’ve learned, from my professional experience and from my own journey, is that the strategies that actually stick are the ones built around your whole life - not just your job, not just your productivity, but you. Your history, your patterns, your relationships, the version of yourself you are when no one is watching.


That is where we start. And in my experience, it’s where everything else becomes possible.


If you recognise yourself in any of this - if you’ve spent years finding workarounds and carrying a quiet, persistent sense that something doesn’t quite fit - I’d love to talk. Not to tell you what label you have or don’t have, but to help you understand how your brain works and build a life that actually works with it.


Frequently asked questions: ADHD in women


Why are women with ADHD diagnosed so late?

Because the diagnostic criteria for ADHD were built almost entirely around how the condition presents in boys and men. Girls who did not display the expected hyperactive, disruptive behaviour were rarely assessed. Instead they learned to compensate and mask -  often so effectively that neither they nor the people around them recognised what was happening. Research from 2025 confirms women receive a diagnosis on average five years later than men, despite symptoms beginning at the same age.


What does ADHD look like in women?

In women, ADHD is often internalised rather than externalised. Rather than visible hyperactivity, it tends to show up as a mind that rarely quietens, emotional intensity, chronic exhaustion, perfectionism used as a coping strategy, and a persistent sense of running hard just to keep pace. It is frequently mistaken for anxiety or depression - conditions that may genuinely be present, but which are often secondary to the underlying ADHD.


Can I get support for ADHD as a woman without a formal diagnosis?

Yes. At Seren, a formal diagnosis is not a requirement for coaching. Many of the women I work with are self-identified, or are in the process of seeking assessment. What matters is not the piece of paper but the understanding — of how your brain works, what gets in the way, and what a life built around your actual strengths could look like. [INTERNAL LINK: Link to Seren coaching/services page here]


You don’t have to have all the answers before you reach out. Most of the women I work with didn’t. The only thing you need is a willingness to start the conversation. You can find me at www.seren-neurodiversity.co.uk or book a call in - I’d be glad to hear from you.



 
 
 

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