A personal reflection on why I no longer measure my success with ADHD and autism against neurotypical standards.
I have noticed something recently. I am constantly justifying myself.
Not to other people. To myself.
One thought refuses to leave: what I am doing is not enough. I have to try even harder.
Perhaps you know that feeling. You have ADHD, autism or both. From the outside, you somehow function. Inside, everything takes far more energy than other people can see. Yet you still compare yourself with people whose experience of daily life, work and structure is very different.
I think I finally understand where that comes from for me.
ADHD and autism as invisible disabilities
I grew up with ADHD and autism spectrum disorder without knowing it. I received my ADHD diagnosis at 19 and my autism diagnosis at 26.
For more than two decades, I worked relentlessly to produce what a neurotypical person might manage almost incidentally. I always went the extra mile. I always tried twice as hard simply to reach the same result.
The difficult part is that no one can see it by looking at me.
When someone uses a wheelchair, the situation is visible. No one demands that they run a marathon. That would be absurd.
Autism spectrum disorder is often invisible. People may imagine an autistic child sitting in a corner and screaming, but the spectrum is broad. Autistic people can appear to function, hold conversations, work and be creative while still having a nervous system that processes daily life very differently.
Because that difference is not visible, people quickly think: they should stop making a fuss. They simply need to try harder.
I told myself the same thing for years. Try harder. Achieve more. Prove more.
The image that fits best is this: I had been walking on a broken leg the entire time without knowing it, then punishing myself for being slower than everyone else.
Why comparing myself with neurotypical people hurt so much
I compared myself with entrepreneurs who can work 80 hours a week, with the next Jeff Bezos, and with people who do not have these disabilities.
Before I changed course, I had shutdowns every day and meltdowns every day. I was depressed, doubted myself constantly and wondered why managing ordinary life was so hard, especially after I began living alone.
If you want to know how I now recognise that overload earlier, I describe it in my article about autistic burnout and its warning signs.
The comparison was never fair. I measured myself against a standard I could not meet and then punished myself for failing to meet it.
How I redefined success with ADHD and autism
Eventually, something clicked. I do not have to compare myself with other people. I can compare myself with what I managed yesterday.
It sounds small, but it changed everything.
My maximum is roughly six hours of work a day: four deep-work sessions. More than that is not sustainable for me. I cannot push through eight uninterrupted hours, work reliably within fixed office hours or live by a conventional nine-to-five schedule.
For a long time, I was ashamed of that. Today, I know that completing those six hours is my success.
In Germany, I have been formally assessed with a degree of disability of 50, which is classified as a severe disability. Despite that, I spent years pretending I should function exactly like everyone else. Demanding that a disabled person do something beyond their capacity is absurd. People understand that immediately when they see a wheelchair. They do not understand it as easily when the disability is invisible.
To make daily life work at all, I need structure: routines and a framework I can follow when my mind is full. A major part of that is making the day and the next actions visible because my sense of time cannot reliably do that for me. I explain how strongly this affects me in my article about time blindness.
That is why I began building my own system. I was not looking for another product idea. I needed something that could carry me through the day. That system later became meinsystem.app.
For the first time, it works. I get through my day. I publish a YouTube video every week. I work on my products, at my pace.
What this does not mean
This distinction matters, so I want to be clear.
I am not talking about lowering the bar. I am not saying you cannot have an ambitious vision or achieve significant things. You can. I have ambitious goals too.
I am talking about the standard you use to judge yourself.
It is all right if my business takes longer to grow. I only have a certain amount of genuinely focused work available each week. If a product takes longer to succeed because of that, I can accept it. The alternative is not “faster”. The alternative is a collapse.
The way I build now is sustainable. Nothing before it was. A slower path that fits me is better than a fast one that destroys me.
What I believe
Everyone has different gifts, different amounts of energy, a different history and different things they have survived.
I believe I do not need to compare or bury what I have been given simply because someone else appears to have more. I want to use it to be a blessing to others. Even if it looks small in someone else’s eyes, I know I have given my best, and I can trust that this is enough.
That is my conviction. I write more about the role faith plays for me in my article about faith and AuDHD. You do not have to share that belief for the core idea to remain true: your best, within what is possible for you, is enough.
To you
If you have ADHD or autism, if you are living with a physical condition, if you had a difficult childhood—whatever you carry with you:
The fact that you are still here, that you have not given up and that you keep moving deserves recognition.
Perhaps you do not need to achieve more. Perhaps you need to redefine success and become a little kinder about the standard you apply to yourself.
Everyone runs their own race in the end. I am running mine. Run yours.
Give your best within what you can genuinely give. I firmly believe that is enough.
Frequently asked questions
What does redefining success mean with ADHD and autism?
For me, it means no longer measuring success by how well I meet neurotypical standards. Success means moving forward at my pace without permanently ending up in overload, shutdowns and self-hatred.
Why is comparison with neurotypical people so difficult?
Because ADHD and autism are often invisible. From the outside, it may look as though someone simply achieves less. Inside, the same daily life can take far more energy.
Does redefining success mean becoming less ambitious?
No. It does not mean making my vision smaller. It means finding a path that can support me long term instead of forcing myself into a rhythm that breaks me.