In August 2025, at 62 years old, I was diagnosed with ADHD.

After 40+ years in technology leadership—building IT organizations from scratch, integrating 30+ acquisitions, and driving digital transformations that helped grow companies from $200M to over $3B in valuation—I finally had an answer to a question I'd been asking my entire career:

"Why do I work the way I work?"

The answer wasn't a deficit. It was a design feature.

The 1000mph Brain

For decades, I thought everyone's mind operated at 1000 miles per hour. I assumed everyone saw patterns ten steps ahead, made connections others missed, and felt physically uncomfortable in steady-state environments.

I was wrong.

What I thought was "normal" was actually ADHD—and it's been the secret weapon behind every successful transformation I've led.

The "Problems" That Were Actually Strengths

Looking back through 40 years of leadership, I can now see how ADHD shaped every major success:

Hyperfocus on Complex Problems

ERP migrations. M&A integrations. Building IT infrastructure from zero to supporting 1,000+ users across 100+ locations. These weren't just projects—they were puzzles my brain couldn't let go of until solved.

That's hyperfocus. And in executive leadership, it's gold.

When you're migrating multiple legacy ERP systems into a unified platform under compressed timelines, the ability to dive deep and stay deep isn't a nice-to-have. It's essential. My ADHD brain thrives in that space.

Pattern Recognition at Scale

I've always been able to see potential in people others overlook.

A young employee working in food service who demonstrated raw intelligence and work ethic—I hired them into IT and watched them become a security manager leading their own team. They still check in with me every Father's Day, years after we last worked together.

A server at a restaurant who impressed me with their technical aptitude—I brought them into the industry and watched them build critical applications in record time.

A helpdesk technician being screamed at by their boss to "just Google it"—I saw someone smart, driven, and capable of so much more. Today they're an operations manager leading their own team.

That's not just good hiring. That's ADHD pattern recognition seeing through surface circumstances to underlying capability.

Novelty-Seeking as Continuous Learning

At 63, I'm completing an MBA in Artificial Intelligence. Not because I need the credential, but because my brain demands new challenges.

Over my career, I've earned 30+ certifications spanning leadership, technical skills, cloud platforms, and emerging technologies. I've never stopped learning because my ADHD brain physically can't.

What looked like "lifelong learning" on my resume was actually my brain seeking the dopamine hit of mastering something new. And in technology leadership, that drive to stay ahead of the curve isn't optional—it's survival.

Thriving in Chaos

Steady-state IT operations? I can manage them. But they drain me.

Turnarounds? Building from scratch? High-growth environments with constant acquisitions? That's where I come alive.

My former CEO once told me I was at my best when everything was on fire. He was right.

ADHD brains are wired for dynamic, non-linear problem-solving. The chaos of integrating acquired companies with different ERP systems, disparate infrastructures, and tight day-one deadlines? That's not stressful—it's energizing.

Give me a blank slate and a mandate to build something from nothing, and my ADHD brain will architect, execute, and scale it faster than most people can plan it.

The Challenges I Managed (Before I Knew Why)

ADHD isn't all superpowers. There were real challenges I learned to navigate without understanding their source:

Time blindness: I built systems and hired people who kept me on track. My team knew I needed structure around deadlines because my brain doesn't naturally perceive time.

Evening energy crashes: I scheduled critical work for mornings and learned to protect my peak hours. My 1000mph brain runs hot early and burns out by evening.

Rejection sensitivity: I walked into walls with loyalty, trusting people longer than I should have because the ADHD brain feels rejection more intensely than neurotypical brains. A betrayal from my twenties shaped my relationship with trust for 40 years.

Conflict avoidance: I scored 9/10 on the "Avoider" assessment. ADHD sensitivity to emotional intensity means I'd rather solve around a problem than confront it directly. I'm still working on this one.

The Reframe: ADHD as Competitive Advantage

Here's what changed after my diagnosis:

I stopped fighting my brain and started working with it.

I stopped wondering why I couldn't sit through steady-state operations without going stir-crazy. Now I know: my brain is wired for building, not maintaining. So I seek roles where transformation is the mandate, not the exception.

I stopped feeling guilty about needing novelty. Now I understand: my MBA in AI isn't a distraction—it's fuel. My brain needs new challenges to function at peak capacity.

I stopped questioning why I see potential in unconventional candidates. Now I realize: ADHD pattern recognition lets me see past credentials to capability. That's how you build teams with loyalty that transcends compensation.

What This Means Going Forward

I've spent 40 years accidentally leveraging ADHD as a superpower. Now I'm doing it intentionally.

The next transformation I lead—whether it's integrating a recent international acquisition, modernizing legacy ERP infrastructure, or building an IT organization from scratch—will benefit from both my experience and my understanding of how my brain operates.

I know now:

• Why M&A integration feels natural: ADHD thrives in non-steady-state environments
• Why I build loyal teams: ADHD empathy recognizes potential others miss
• Why I lead digital transformation successfully: ADHD hyperfocus solves complex problems others abandon
• Why I'm still learning at 63: ADHD novelty-seeking demands growth

The Superpower, Named

For executives considering ADHD a liability: you're missing the point.

In the right role—transformation, turnaround, high-growth, M&A-heavy environments—ADHD isn't a bug. It's a feature.

It's the reason I can walk into chaos and build order.

It's the reason I can see 10 acquisitions ahead and architect the integration strategy before the deals close.

It's the reason teams I built years ago still reach out, still show up, still remember.

ADHD gave me 40 years of success before I knew its name.

Now I know what I'm working with.

And I've got one more sunset in me—built intentionally, leveraging the superpower I finally understand.

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