Unmasked & Unapologetic
Living, leading & thriving unapologetically

This award was a moment I’ll never forget
Tuesday, 25th November 2025
Recently, we received a Highly Commended Award at the Cardiff Business Awards for the charity that I founded 16 years ago. It was one of the proudest moments of my life — I honestly still feel emotional thinking about it.
But that moment is also the reason I’m writing this.
Because while I am incredibly proud of what I’ve achieved, I need people to understand that there is so much they don’t see… so much that sits underneath the success, behind the smile, and beneath the surface of being autistic and ADHD.
I hear this comment a lot:
“You’ve achieved so much, especially with ADHD and autism.”
And every time, something inside me aches a little.
People mean it kindly — I know that.
But those words carry an unspoken belief that people like me aren’t expected to succeed…
or that if we do, our struggles must not be that real.
And that simply isn’t my reality.
Yes, people see the parts of me that shine:
My passion for what I do
The energy I pour into others
My determination to create change
My ideas, creativity, and deep focus
The fire I have for helping neurodivergent people feel understood and supported
I’m proud of those parts of me.
They’re real, and they’re powerful.
But there is another side that isn’t visible when I’m standing on a stage holding an award.
A side that’s quieter.
More fragile.
And far more complex.
The feeling of being “different” for most of my life
The burnout from pushing myself long past my limits
Sensory overwhelm that can flatten me without warning
The spiralling thoughts that I can’t always escape
Years of masking just to feel safe or accepted
Rejection sensitivity that cuts deeper than people realise
Time blindness that makes me feel guilty and ashamed
The exhaustion of managing a brain that never truly switches off
The weight of old criticism that still sits in my bones
These are the parts nobody sees when they see the award, the achievements, the confidence, or the smile.
So when someone says, “How do you achieve so much with ADHD and autism?”
it doesn’t motivate me.
It reminds me of every time I’ve had to work twice as hard just to stand in the same room.
It reminds me of the invisible effort behind everything I do.
And it reminds me that success doesn’t erase the daily battles I navigate quietly.
My ADHD and autism may not always be visible.
I might cope well.
I might mask well.
I might even shine brightly.
But I feel every part of it — every single day.
And here’s what I want people to truly understand:
Yes, I am proud of myself.
Deeply proud.
And yes, I also struggle — sometimes deeply.
Both things are real.
Both things matter.
Both things deserve to be seen.
My achievements do not cancel out my challenges.
And my challenges do not cancel out my worth.
This award was a moment I’ll never forget —
but sharing the truth behind it feels just as important.
Because this is who I am, fully and honestly.
And it’s time people see the whole picture.
Best wishes,
Karen

