Frequently told she was “the problem” as a child, student paramedic Adrien Koning is now learning to support people through some of their most overwhelming moments. Her story shows how understanding, empathy and a sense of safety can change someone’s experience of ADHD—and their life.
The most difficult part of growing up with ADHD wasn’t being diagnosed. It was the way some adults responded to behaviours I couldn’t yet understand or regulate.
As a child, my emotions could become very big, very quickly. I often felt worked up without knowing why, and sometimes that came out as aggression or disruptive behaviour.
Born and raised in Florida, USA, I was a confident and bright child. I did well academically and scored highly on tests, but I couldn’t understand why sitting still, staying focused or managing my reactions seemed so much harder for me than everyone else. I was frequently sent to the principal’s office, and my mum regularly received complaints from school.
I was diagnosed with ADHD at eight after my mum was referred to a doctor because of the difficulties I was having at school. My mum was also assessed and diagnosed with ADHD at the same time and we were both prescribed the same medication.
As I grew older, I became increasingly aware of the differences between myself and others. Even though my medication made some improvements in my focus and behaviour, I always needed to move, wander around or shake my leg, and very little held my attention for long.

Medication also became more difficult causing serious issues with my sleep. There wasn’t much education available to help us understand and my mum didn’t realise the effect it was having on my body. I began pretending to take it, but without medication, focusing at school became challenging again.
I felt caught between two difficult options without the understanding or support I needed. Looking back, I think the adults around me often responded to the behaviour they could see without recognising the overwhelm beneath it. It wasn’t my ADHD diagnosis that made me feel broken. It was being repeatedly told that I was the problem.
At 16 my education took an unconventional turn when my charter school closed and my parents decided to sell everything, buy a boat and experience life at sea. I spent the next couple of years travelling and homeschooling as we sailed around the world, arriving in Aotearoa New Zealand shortly after I turned 18.
Over the next few years, I moved between roles in swimming instruction, retail and hospitality, searching for a way to do something meaningful and give back to my community.

The turning point came when a family member needed an ambulance. In a frightening and uncertain moment, the ambulance team brought us a sense of calm and comfort. That experience stayed with me. I realised I wanted to offer other people that same feeling—to help them feel safe when everything around them seemed overwhelming.
Studying paramedicine has brought its own challenges. The volume of information and unfamiliar medical terminology can be difficult to get my head around.
I stopped taking medication when I was 19, so I still experience the effects of ADHD. It doesn’t simply go away. I think I have become better at managing—and sometimes masking—it.
But when I am out on the road, I’m reminded why I chose this work. My favourite part is spending time with patients and talking with them. Being inside an ambulance can be frightening. People may be in pain, unsure of what is happening or experiencing one of the most difficult moments of their lives. Sometimes, they just need someone who will listen, explain what is happening and help them feel less alone. I want to give people the same sense of calm and comfort that an ambulance crew once gave my family.
Growing up, adults sometimes saw my distress and responded only to the behaviour they could see. That experience taught me how powerful it can be when someone responds with kindness and patience rather than judgement.
I can’t change the way I was treated as a child, but I can choose the kind of person I become for someone else. For me, paramedicine is an opportunity to be that calm presence—to help people feel heard, understood and safe when they need it most.
– Adrien Koning
Every ADHD Story Is Different







