Mark: Here's a wild thought: what if the messiest, most forgetful, chronically late person you know is actually trying harder than anyone else? We're talking about the hidden world of adult ADHD, where the real symptom isn't laziness—it's shame. Michelle: That's a total reframe. I mean, everything in our culture teaches us to see those traits as moral failings. A lack of discipline, right? The idea that they're a sign of more effort, not less, is completely counter-intuitive. Mark: Exactly. And it’s the central idea in a book that has sparked a massive online conversation. Today we’re diving into Dirty Laundry: Why Adults with ADHD Are So Ashamed and What We Can Do to Help by Richard Pink and Roxanne Emery. Michelle: Oh, I know them! They're the couple behind the @ADHD_Love social media channels, right? Their videos are hilarious but also have this incredible depth. Mark: That's them. And their story is fascinating. Roxanne is a platinum-selling songwriter who was only diagnosed with ADHD in her thirties, after years of struggle. Richard comes from a 20-year banking career, so he’s the neurotypical partner trying to understand this whirlwind. Their entire project, this book included, grew from a single, spontaneous TikTok video about tampons that went viral. Michelle: A video about tampons launched a book and a global community. That feels very on-brand for the kind of spontaneous energy the book talks about. It sounds like this isn't just a clinical breakdown, but something deeply personal. Mark: It is. And it starts by tackling a very strange phenomenon they encountered.

Mark: As their online presence grew, they started getting recognized in public. But they noticed something odd. People would come up to them, fans of their funny, lighthearted videos, and just start crying. Michelle: Crying? From watching comedy skits? That seems like a disconnect. What was triggering that? Mark: That's what Rich couldn't understand. But Roxanne, who has ADHD, knew instantly. She says in the book, "It’s almost like they speak the same language, an unwritten dialogue of understanding that comes, ironically, from a lifetime of being misunderstood." The tears were about relief. It was the first time these people felt seen, not for their failures, but for the hidden struggle behind them. Michelle: Wow. So the laughter is just the surface. The real connection is happening on a much deeper, more painful level. It's the shame. Mark: Precisely. The book is built around deconstructing that shame, symptom by symptom. The authors kick it off with a story that perfectly captures the blend of absurdity and stress that is life with ADHD. They call it "The Trampon Incident." Michelle: The... trampon? I'm almost afraid to ask. Mark: Picture this: Rich and Rox are at one of those Go Ape adventure courses, high up in the trees, strapped into harnesses. They're halfway through the hardest route when Rox casually says, "Oh, wow, I’m on my period, babe." Michelle: Oh no. Up in a tree. That is a special kind of nightmare. Mark: No pharmacy for miles. Rich, trying to be helpful, offers her some tissues. And Rox, without missing a beat, confidently says, "I’ll just make a trampon." And she proceeds to skillfully roll toilet paper into a makeshift tampon while dangling from a wire. Michelle: That is... impressively resourceful. And also speaks to a life of having to improvise because of forgetfulness. It’s funny, but it’s also a sign of a recurring crisis. Mark: Exactly. And that's the lighter side of the shame. The book quickly pivots to the darker, more traumatic side of the same symptom: forgetfulness. Roxanne shares a story about losing a letter her mother wrote to her just before she died. She carried it everywhere, and then one day, it was gone. The self-hatred she describes is visceral. She says she felt like "the worst human to ever live." Michelle: That's just heartbreaking. And it completely reframes what we think of as 'losing things.' It's not an inconvenience; for her, it became a profound source of grief and self-loathing. It wasn't just a piece of paper, it was proof that she was fundamentally broken. Mark: And it creates a vicious cycle. She lost three wallets in six months. The last one was a gift from Rich, engraved and special. She had a full-blown breakdown at Brighton train station, not because of the money, but because she felt she was letting him down, confirming her own worst fears about herself. She writes, "What I needed wasn’t more judgement or scolding; what I needed was therapy, and a hell of a lot of compassion." Michelle: I can see how that shame would just snowball. It starts with a messy room, what she calls the 'floordrobe'—a carpet of clothes—and escalates to financial issues. The book talks about her getting evicted, right? Because she was too overwhelmed and ashamed to even open her bills. Mark: Yes, the story is harrowing. She was so terrified of the brown envelopes from the energy company that she just let them pile up. One day, men literally had to cut into the wall of her flat from the outside to install a pay-as-you-go meter because she was hiding inside, too scared to answer the door. Michelle: That’s not just disorganization. That's paralysis. It’s a trauma response to something as mundane as mail. Mark: And that’s the core of this first idea. The "dirty laundry" of the title isn't the pile of clothes on the floor or the unpaid bills. It's the crushing, secret shame that these symptoms produce. It's the feeling that you missed the instruction manual for life that everyone else got. Michelle: Okay, so the problem is laid bare. The shame is real, it's corrosive, and it stems from these misunderstood symptoms. It's easy to feel a bit hopeless at this point. How do they propose anyone starts to clean up that kind of internal mess? You can't just decide to stop feeling ashamed. Mark: You can't. And that leads directly to the book's central, powerful solution. It's not about trying harder or being more organized. It's about changing the entire environment, both internal and external.

Michelle: So if 'trying harder' is off the table, what's the alternative? Where do you even begin? Mark: The book argues that the antidote to shame is compassion. And the turning point for Rich and Rox was her diagnosis. It gave them a new language. It reframed everything. Rich uses a powerful line: "It was no longer me against Rox losing things. It was me and Rox against a symptom of ADHD." Michelle: That's a huge shift in perspective. It externalizes the problem. It’s not a character flaw in her, it’s a challenge they face together as a team. Mark: Exactly. And they illustrate this with the story of what Rich calls "Hurricane Rox." Before the diagnosis, he’d come home to a pristine flat that had been turned upside down. Clothes everywhere, half-finished projects, total chaos. He’d get frustrated and angry, seeing it as a lack of respect for his time and their home. Michelle: Which is a totally understandable reaction if you don't have the right framework. You'd think, "She just doesn't care." Mark: Right. There was one night he came home, exhausted, and found she’d forgotten to clean a room like she’d promised. Instead, she’d spent the afternoon creating a paint-splattered denim jacket. He was furious, and it led to a big argument. That was the 'before.' Michelle: Okay, so what does the 'after' look like? How does compassion play out in a real, tangible way when you're staring at a mess? Mark: The book gives a beautiful, simple example: making the bed. Rox had never been able to consistently make her bed. She carried immense shame about it. Instead of nagging her, Rich approached it with what he calls kindness and curiosity. He didn't say, "Why can't you just do this simple thing?" He said, "Hey, can I show you how I do it?" He stood with her the first few times, guiding her visually. There was no judgment. Michelle: He offered help instead of criticism. Mark: And it worked. She slowly built the habit. The book’s argument is that you cannot shame someone into being more functional. Roxanne writes, "Compassion and non-judgement will bring about more positive change than shame and judgement ever will." It created a safe environment where she could try and fail without the fear of being condemned. Michelle: This is where I can see some of the criticism of the book coming in, though. Some reviewers have said the approach feels like it promotes co-dependence. Is the solution always for the neurotypical partner to step in and become a manager or a coach? Where is the line between support and enabling? Mark: That's a fair and important question, and the book does touch on it. The authors' view seems to be that it's not about the partner taking over, but about co-regulating the environment to reduce the shame that prevents progress. Rich isn't making the bed for her every day. He created a shame-free space where she could learn to do it herself. It's about removing the emotional barrier—the fear of failure—so the person with ADHD can actually engage with the task. Michelle: So it's less about managing the person and more about managing the emotional climate. Mark: Exactly. It's about asking, "Is that a real five minutes, or an ADHD five minutes?" with a laugh, instead of with accusation. It's about Rich sniffing her clothes for a "BO check" without making her feel disgusting. They use humor and kindness to defuse the shame, which in turn makes Rox more capable, not less. Michelle: That makes sense. The shame itself is disabling. If you remove the shame, you free up the mental and emotional energy to actually tackle the problem. It’s not about someone fixing you, but someone creating the conditions for you to fix yourself. Mark: And that applies to all the symptoms. Time blindness, hyperfocus, impulsivity. The strategy is always the same: get curious, be kind, and tackle it as a team. For her impulsivity—like starting a resin business that lasts three weeks and costs £500—Rich learned not to shut it down, but to let her fantasize and then gently provide a reality check. He helps her "spot the gold" in her flood of ideas, which is how their TikTok and this very book came to be. Michelle: So one of her impulsive ideas, the resin business, failed. But another one, the TikTok account, changed their lives. His role wasn't to stop the impulsivity, but to help her surf the wave of ideas and pick the right one. Mark: You've nailed it. It’s about protecting the creativity while grounding it in reality. It’s a partnership, not a rescue mission.

Mark: When you pull it all together, the book's message is incredibly clear. The "dirty laundry" isn't the mess, the debt, or the missed appointments. The real dirty laundry is the shame we've been taught to feel about our brains working differently. Michelle: A shame that's been reinforced by schools, workplaces, and even well-meaning family for decades. Mark: And the book argues that compassion is the only detergent powerful enough to get that stain out. It’s not a quick fix. It’s a fundamental rewiring of how you talk to yourself and how you interact with the people you love. Michelle: It really feels like the biggest takeaway is to get curious instead of furious. Whether it's with yourself or a partner. To stop asking "What's wrong with you?" and start asking "What's going on here, and how can we help?" Mark: That's the heart of it. It’s a shift from judgment to investigation. And that's a lesson that applies far beyond just ADHD. It’s a roadmap for a more compassionate way of being in any relationship. Michelle: It’s a powerful and, frankly, much-needed message. It challenges so many of our default assumptions about productivity and worth. Mark: Absolutely. And it’s a conversation that’s clearly resonating with millions. We'd love to hear from our listeners on this. What's one piece of your own 'dirty laundry'—a habit, a struggle, a perceived flaw—that you've learned to be more compassionate about? Let us know on our social channels. We'd genuinely love to see what this sparks for you. Michelle: This is Aibrary, signing off.