When Words Aren't Enough: Why We're Picking Up Paintbrushes Instead

"Can you tell me how you're feeling?"

It's a simple enough question.

Except sometimes, for me, it isn't, I say “I’m OK” or “good thanks”, because how do I put the feelings I have into words?! Sometimes my thoughts do not even make it into words!

In my mind, I have a man with a huge filing cabinet. Inside those drawers are my words, phrases, memories and ideas. He's my word librarian. I don't know why he's wearing a grey suit with a bright red tie. That's simply how I've always seen him.

Most of the time he's brilliant. When I need a word, he opens the drawers, finds exactly what I'm looking for, and hands it over.

But if I'm taken by surprise, feeling anxious or under pressure, everything changes. He freezes. He knows the words are in there somewhere, but he can't find them. Panic sets in, the more he panics, the more words he pulls out, throwing them everywhere, but not finding the ones I need in the moment.

Other days, he's wandered off to make himself a cup of tea, leaving me sitting there knowing exactly what I want to say but unable to get to the words.

Then there are the moments when he opens every drawer at once. Hundreds of words come tumbling out together. They're all the right words, just in no particular order. I have to stop, gather them up and carefully arrange them before they spill out in a muddled heap, “Sorry - I’m just putting my words in the right order,” I say.

And then there are the days when he's almost too efficient.

He works so quickly that the words shoot straight past whatever filter is supposed to check them first. A joke appears before I've realised I'm making one. Something slightly tongue-in-cheek escapes my lips before I've decided whether I was actually going to say it. Occasionally, what comes out surprises me just as much as everyone else.

That's how my mind often feels. The words exist. The thoughts exist. They just don't always make the journey from my mind into spoken language in the order or at the speed that I'd like. If any of that feels familiar, you're certainly not alone.

It's one of the reasons we're doing something a little different at this month's Women and ADHD group. Instead of trying to find the right words, we're picking up paintbrushes.

Sometimes words simply aren't enough

For many of us, thoughts don't arrive as neat little sentences. They arrive as feelings, sensations, colours, memories, music, tension in our shoulders, a knot in our stomach, or an overwhelming sense that something isn't quite right.

We know there's something there, but explaining it can feel almost impossible.

As a person-centred counsellor, I believe that people already possess an innate capacity for growth when they're offered the right conditions. Carl Rogers described empathy, congruence and unconditional positive regard as the foundations of meaningful therapeutic change. His daughter, Natalie Rogers, took those same values and asked an important question.

What happens when words aren't the easiest route to understanding ourselves?

Her answer became The Creative Connection.

Rather than seeing art as something reserved for "creative people", Natalie Rogers viewed creativity as another language. Painting, movement, clay, writing, music and imagery allow us to express experiences that may not yet have words attached to them. The goal isn't to produce beautiful artwork. The goal is to become curious about ourselves.

That feels particularly important for many women with ADHD.

Because if you've spent years being told you're "too much", "too emotional", "too sensitive", "too messy", or "too disorganised", sitting down to create something with no right or wrong answer can feel surprisingly uncomfortable.

Which is exactly why it can be so powerful.

Our brains speak in more than words

You've probably heard people talk about the "left brain" being logical and the "right brain" being creative.

It's a lovely story. It just isn't quite how the brain works.

Modern neuroscience tells us that creativity isn't housed in one half of the brain. Creating art recruits many different brain networks at the same time. Visual processing, attention, memory, movement, emotional processing, imagination, and decision-making all begin working together in remarkably complex ways.

In other words, when we create, we're not simply making a picture. We're engaging multiple ways of processing an experience simultaneously.

Research has shown that creating visual images can activate brain networks involved in memory formation and storage, alongside emotional processing, providing another route for making sense of experiences that may be difficult to explain verbally. Emerging neuroscience continues to explore how creativity supports communication between these networks and may help integrate emotional and cognitive processing.

For people with ADHD, this feels particularly relevant.

Many of us experience emotions intensely. Thoughts arrive quickly. Attention shifts. Connections appear that other people don't immediately see. Sometimes we understand something long before we can explain it.

That doesn't mean anything is wrong with our brains. It simply means that words are not always the first language our minds choose to use.

Sometimes colour speaks first. Sometimes movement. Sometimes texture. Sometimes the act of rolling clay between your fingers says more than a paragraph ever could.

The power of symbols

Lisl Silverstone, another pioneer of art therapy, believed that images can communicate aspects of ourselves that remain outside conscious awareness or beyond everyday language.

Think about that for a moment. If I asked ten women with ADHD to draw what their ADHD felt like, I doubt any two pictures would be the same. One might draw a hurricane, another might paint fireworks.

Someone else might create a tangled ball of wool. Another might simply cover the page in tiny coloured dots.

None of those pictures would be right, and yet none of them would be wrong - each one would tell a story.

Not because we're analysing the artwork or trying to interpret hidden meanings, but because the act of creating often helps us notice things we hadn't consciously recognised before.

Sometimes we discover that our ADHD isn't the chaos we imagined.

Sometimes we realise how colourful, playful or resilient it has always been.

Sometimes we simply need to just give ourselves permission to stop explaining or justifying.

From perfection to curiosity

Often, the idea of a shared art session is daunting, the fear of judgment, imperfect lines, and the thought, "I can't draw."

I wonder how many of us learned that somewhere along the way, perhaps at school, or through comparison to others.

Perfection quietly became the standard we believed we had to meet before we were allowed to enjoy the process. Many women with ADHD know perfectionism all too well. Not because they expect perfection from other people, rather because somewhere along the journey they learned that making mistakes often came with criticism, embarrassment or shame. We internalise these comments, and they create conditions we set for ourselves, the impossible standard. Rejection Sensitivity comes in all shapes and sizes, another feeling that can be so intense, words do not truly describe the experience, the tightness, the heaviness, the shame.

So we stop trying,  we overthink, or we just never begin.

This month isn't about creating something beautiful enough to put on your wall. It's about noticing what happens when perfection quietly leaves the room. It's about allowing yourself to experiment.

To be curious. To make a glorious mess if that's what happens. Because creativity isn't about producing the perfect picture.

It's about meeting yourself with compassion.

Why we create together

There's something quietly powerful about making art alongside other people.

Not because we're comparing.

But because we're witnessing.

Imagine looking across the table and seeing someone else's painting.

Not because it's technically brilliant. But because, somehow, it captures exactly what your own ADHD feels like.

Suddenly, you're no longer trying to explain yourself. Someone else has just shown you that they understand.

Moments like these remind us that healing doesn't always happen through advice or solutions.

Sometimes it happens through recognition. "I thought I was the only one." Those may be some of the most healing words we ever speak.

Natalie Rogers wrote about creativity flourishing within safe, accepting groups where people feel free to explore without judgement. When we're met with curiosity instead of criticism, creativity becomes less about performance and more about connection.

Perhaps that's what our Women and ADHD group has always been about.

Not fixing ourselves. Not becoming less ADHD.

But gradually discovering that the things we've spent years hiding are often the very things that connect us to one another.

An invitation

So this month, we'll be putting words to one side for a little while.

We'll be painting.

Drawing.

Collaging.

Playing with clay.

Laughing.

Chatting.

Creating.

There won't be any marks out of ten and nobody will tell you your tree doesn't look enough like a tree, nobody will ask you to stay inside the lines.

You'll simply be invited to notice. To create. To wonder.

And perhaps to discover your own version of my word librarian. Because sometimes healing doesn't begin with finding the perfect words. Sometimes it begins with giving yourself permission to express what words could never quite hold.

 

References

Çınaroğlu, M., Yılmazer, E., et al. (2026). Attenuated rightward hemispheric asymmetry in ADHD: Structural MRI evidence from a normalized asymmetry index and its association with cognitive performance. Frontiers in Neuroscience, 20, Article 1764242. https://doi.org/10.3389/fnins.2026.1764242

Douglas, P. K., Gutman, B., Anderson, A., Larios, C., Lawrence, K. E., Narr, K. L., Sengupta, B., Cooray, G., Douglas, D. B., Thompson, P. M., McGough, J. J., & Bookheimer, S. Y. (2018). Hemispheric brain asymmetry differences in youths with attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder. NeuroImage: Clinical, 18, 744-752. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.nicl.2018.02.020

Dutta, C. N., Christov-Moore, L., Anderson, A., Koch, Z., Douglas, P. K., Bookheimer, S. Y., & Thompson, P. M. (2020). Inter-hemispheric asymmetry patterns in the ADHD brain: A neuroimaging replication study. In Medical Imaging 2020: Computer-Aided Diagnosis (Proceedings of SPIE, Vol. 11314). SPIE. https://doi.org/10.1117/12.2546895

Hale, T. S., Zaidel, E., McGough, J. J., Phillips, J. M., & McCracken, J. T. (2006). Atypical brain laterality in adults with ADHD during dichotic listening for emotional intonation and words. Neuropsychologia, 44(6), 896-904. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.neuropsychologia.2005.08.014

Rogers, C. R. (1961). On Becoming a Person: A Therapist's View of Psychotherapy. Houghton Mifflin.

Rogers, N. (1993). The Creative Connection: Expressive Arts as Healing. Science and Behavior Books.

Rogers, N. (2022). The Creative Connection for Groups: Person-Centered Expressive Arts for Healing and Social Change. Science and Behavior Books.

Silverstone, L. (1997). Art Therapy: The Person-Centred Way. Jessica Kingsley Publishers.

Malchiodi, C. A. (2020). Trauma and Expressive Arts Therapy: Brain, Body and Imagination in the Healing Process. Guilford Press.