Today I declare the lemon as the unofficial mascot for my ADHD.
I know the lemons you’re picturing right now—the bright yellow fruit gleaming from the produce aisle. Or maybe you picture them somewhere more exotic: against the backdrop of the Mediterranean Sea, growing on a tree. You may love lemons, or you may despise them. Lemons are sour, after all. Bitter, even. But lemons don’t have to stay sour. Add sugar and water, and the alchemy awards you one of the most refreshing drinks in the world: lemonade. As the adage goes: “When life hands you lemons, make lemonade!” At the foundation of this adage is the first truth: You cannot make lemonade without lemons. However, lemons don’t have to be a bad thing. They’re not unwanted scraps handed to us by life. We don’t have to feel forced to upcycle lemons or assume they are always a burden. When used how they’re meant to be used, lemons are a gift. A delicacy. The foundation of lemonade, and pie, and Lemon Drop martinis. Among countless other sweet creations.
Here is a second truth about lemonade and ADHD: once mixed up, the ingredients cannot be separated. Your ADHD is always part of you. Even when it’s managed to the best of your abilities, or treated with medicine. It’s still there. Because here’s the thing about ADHD: it’s not one thing. It’s never just one thing. ADHD isn’t like a pesky online ad. It doesn’t pop up only when you’re trying to do something, like make a list or organize your office supplies. ADHD is inseparable from you. It’s how your brain was wired, beginning in the womb. This wiring is combined with the unique personality that makes you who you are, the person you were born to be. ADHD doesn’t look or feel the same for everyone. It is expressed through your personality and all the other genetic factors that determine how each of us is “coded.”
It’s been suggested that people with ADHD love metaphors and analogies. It’s an ideal way of communicating—of defining what is difficult to define. Our mascot, this anthropomorphic lemon, is here and ready to party. So here are five reasons why lemons and ADHD have—surprisingly—a lot in common. Pucker up and read on.
1. Lemons are survivors.
Once upon a time, lemons were grown in and enjoyed by the people of India. The Arab people celebrated lemons, adding the flavors to their dishes and eventually introducing them to the countries of Spain and China. But during the Dark and Middle Ages, the bright, happy lemons were nowhere to be found. Any other fruit may have been forever lost to time. But not the resilient, thick-skinned lemon. Not to be held down for long, they popped back up centuries later in the Mediterranean region.
Just like the lemon, those with ADHD have gone through tough times. We’ll go through many more. But we become hardier as we mature. We evolve over time. We also find the coping mechanisms that work best for us. The strong don’t just survive—they thrive.
And speaking of thriving in sunny climates, that leads us to our second reason why the lemon is my ADHD mascot…
2. Lemons flourish in sunshine.
Lemons thrive when planted and nourished in a sun-drenched culture. They respond to sun and warmth. It’s the positive factors that allow them to grow. Praise goes a long way. Negative feedback? Darkness and coldness? Not helpful. Likewise, many of us with ADHD shrink under negativity and pressure. Especially when we’re already plagued with self-doubt. In many cases, it’s part of the package we’re born with. The negativity we perceive from others isn’t necessarily actual rejection. But that’s how we experience it. Self-doubt is normal for everyone—not just those with ADHD. But it’s this lifelong, constant doubt that makes us feel like we’re imposters even when we’re actually doing well.
Just as with cold and darkness, experiencing rejection—either real or perceived—can feel devastating. RSD (rejection-sensitive dysphoria), though not formally recognized by the DSM (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, or DSM), is a term used to describe this persistent thought pattern. When a perceived slight is out of proportion to the depth of emotion that one experiences as a response to that slight, it could be RSD. Here’s an example: say a mom friend forgot to invite you and your kiddo to the park when organizing a group play date. When you see other friends in the pictures on Facebook, you experience a feeling of rejection that cuts you to the core. You may assume that not only does your friend hate you, she’s always hated you. Everyone else hates you, too, you think. It doesn’t occur to you your friend simply forgot to invite you. Everything feels heightened and super-personal. Your skin is thin. This was one of the more surprising things about ADHD. I knew about the focus, and the organization, but I had no idea it spilled into the emotional. But of course it makes sense. It all starts in the brain.
And speaking of thin skin…
The Lisbon lemon has thinner skin than other lemons you’ll find at the grocery store. Juicier, too. Like the Lisbon, I’m full of juice—cry juice. My skin is as thin as it comes. It’s gotten better over time. Medicine gently redirects my brains’ patterns enough to soften the emotional blows I hurl at myself. Then add in my personality and we’ve got a very tart lemonade. A more sensitive personality is going to have a harder time with what feels like rejection. And when it gets to be too much for me and those Lisbon lemons…here comes the cry juice.
3. Lemons have served as first responders for sick pirates since 1747.
Lemons: prevented and treated scurvy in pirates, therefore saving lives.
First responders (who are disproportionately people with ADHD): treat the sick and the hurt. And pirates, of course–upon request.
In the golden age of pirates, scurvy was a serious problem. Lack of access to fresh fruit—and therefore limited Vitamin C—was the #1 risk for these raiders at sea. That is, until lemon juice was introduced as a preventive measure because of its mega-boost of Vitamin C. In fact, lemons have one of the highest concentrations of Vitamin C among the fruits. Once this fact was determined, rations of lemon juice were brought aboard each ship to prevent scurvy for those onboard. Lemons: a cheerful, nutrient-rich lifesaver.
But lemons aren’t the only first responders in a crisis. Many EMTs (emergency medical technicians) also have ADHD, as do certain other workers in the public sector. In fact, a study was conducted that indicated a strong correlation between ADHD wiring and EMTs. Though this study occurred over 25 years ago, the numbers likely represent a pattern consistent across time. At first it doesn’t quite make sense—many of those with ADHD have issues prioritizing household tasks. So how on earth can they prioritize actions in life-or-death situations? One word: adrenaline. In emergencies, the situation becomes clear. I’ve seen people who are normally organized and calm begin to freak out in even a minor crisis. I’m not being critical; these are just observations. Everyone has their time to shine.
4. Lemons flourish by taking risks and spreading wide.
The lemon was introduced to the New World in 1493 when Spanish explorer Christopher Columbus brought lemon seeds along on his voyages. Lemon seeds spread across the warmer climates of the New World as the Spanish conquest charged on. Though the discovery of America and the centuries that followed are complex and viewed through many different lenses, one thing can be said about Christopher Columbus and other voyagers who explored unknown territory. No matter what country we live in, all of our ancestors were once explorers. And those ancestors took big risks in exploring and settling in a new land. It takes grit to move someplace new. It takes moxie. It sometimes takes the high risk tolerance of an individual with ADHD.
When a lemon leaves its home and its seeds spread across new lands, the lemons that grow after it continue to be much like those original lemons. It’s in their coding—the fruit equivalent of DNA. Just as with lemons, the settlers in the new land bear children and grow new generations. ADHD is highly genetic, contained in the DNA that passes from the ancestors to each new generation of sons and daughters. Yet centuries later, people are skeptical of the prevalence of ADHD in the United States. Really?
Really?
We take big risks. Sometimes it doesn’t even occur to us that we are taking risks. It’s just what seems right at the moment. I recently discovered one of the ancestors on my father’s lineage sailed across the ocean—completely by choice and unchaperoned—to leave France and begin an entirely new life in Canada/New France. As one of Les Filles a Marier, she and other young women chose to travel—on their own—for the possibility of a better life. Coincidence? It’s impossible to know. But I like to think the genes passed down on this branch of the family tree include the risk and determination that this female ancestor displayed. I like to think our family’s ADHD story starts there. I like to think many family stories started this way.
5. Lemonade started with creativity and entrepreneurship.
Lemonade is the drink of choice for young entrepreneurs to sell. Given its background as an innovative drink, it’s easy to see why. France is credited as the country that invented lemonade and then made available by upstart lemonade sellers in France and Italy. In the present day, lemonade stands are the go-to summer business of choice for many kids. I remember in the 1980s, my sister even used to play a game called “Lemonade Stand” on our family’s Commodore 64. It’s classic.
A significant percentage of people with ADHD are CEOs and entrepreneurs. In positions of creativity and innovation, ADHD traits that would be a liability elsewhere are the secret sauce for these leaders. Risk-taking and hyperfocus? Great! Unconventional problem-solving and boredom with routine and status quo? Even better! One book on my to-read list discusses this concept in depth: “The Edison Gene: ADHD and the Gift of the Hunter Child” by Thom Hartmann. He suggests that many ADHD traits that are challenging today actually helped us survive in earlier cultures.
Lemon is also the natural go-to cleansing method for many things. There’s a reason lemon oil is used to polish furniture, to strip away grime. It makes glasses and metal pans sparkle. When used properly, we can sparkle. We can make other things sparkle. We can be extraordinary—especially if we find the right path for each of us and follow it to completion.
If you’ve squeezed anything out of this post, hopefully it’s this: like ADHD, lemons can be sweet and sour. Sometimes even in the same day. Some aspects of living with ADHD are more tart than sweet: difficulty focusing and organizing, time management, etc. But some aspects of ADHD are more sweet than tart: when we hyperfocus on something we love. Or when we solve a problem by approaching it in a way that wouldn’t occur to anyone else.
Whether sweet, tart, or downright bitter…there’s no one right way for lemonade to be.
Lemon ADHD 