About a year ago, my second grader taught me a trick for understanding the brain that has stuck with me. The context is hazy, but I think I felt like a schmuck after snapping at the kids, and I was in the process of apologizing, explaining that even Very Mature Grown-ups like myself mess up sometimes and need to practice taking breaks when feelings get big.
That’s when my daughter said, “Your guard dog was barking.” She explained what she’d learned about her brain in school:
- Wise Owl Brain: the calm, thoughtful part that helps us problem-solve and check the facts.
- Guard Dog Brain: the part that barks or growls when it feels scared, trying to keep us safe (though its bark can scare Wise Owl away).
- Possum Brain: the part that “plays dead” when overwhelmed, shutting us down completely.
Not bad for second-grade neuroscience! Her comment stuck with me, not just because it was spot-on, but because it reminds me how hard it can be to trust myself when ADHD has me snapping, reacting, or shutting down. ADHD brains tend to have extra-vigilant Guard Dogs and extra-sensitive Possums. I’ve had days (months? years?) where Guard Dog was at the wheel almost full-time, taking me on a reflexive, emotional, reward-driven ride. Why is summoning Wise Owl so much harder for us?!
Unpredictability keeps us anxious, for one. Untreated (or unexamined) ADHD can feel random and confusing. One day, we’re racing through our to-do list; the next, we’re completely stuck, spinning our wheels in the mud. When we don’t know what to expect, Guard Dog is on high alert.
Calling on Wise Owl when we’re emotional, or worse, burnt out and melting into the couch, means having enough self-awareness to understand how we problem-solve best. And self-awareness takes work. Neurotypical folks generally learn that time and effort lead to results. For us, the math can look more like: time + effort = epic win, or epic fail, or barely scraped by, or a total wild card no one saw coming… No wonder Guard Dog is on edge, and Possum is ready to throw in the towel! When the results feel random, it’s easy to lose trust in ourselves. If I can’t predict how my brain will show up today, how do I trust it to handle tomorrow?
Guard Dog isn’t out to get us, and Possum isn’t lazy. They’re trying to protect us. So how do we learn to listen to Guard Dog and Possum without reacting mindlessly? And how do we get Wise Owl back to the driver’s seat?
I trust my emotions to alert me to something that requires my attention: “Pay attention here!” I also know that reacting impulsively seldom ends well.
That moment between emotion and reaction is a tiny grace period. Noticing it is the doorway to Wise Owl. It’s the moment you realize you have a choice. The choice to pause and tap into our curiosity. That pause is where self-trust begins.
For neurotypical brains, Wise Owl tends to return more naturally. We often need to create the conditions to help lure old owly back to us:
- Medication can level the playing field.
- Mindfulness helps us stretch that pause.
- Externalizing thoughts (talking out loud, writing them down) brings clarity.
- Practice builds the pause muscle over time.
At its core, ADHD coaching helps you build self-awareness, and with that awareness comes self-trust. It’s not about silencing Guard Dog or locking Possum away. It’s about listening to them without handing over the steering wheel.
My daughter was right. Sometimes my Guard Dog barks. But now, instead of seeing that as failure, I see it as a signal. Wise Owl comes back when I pause. When I talk or write about what’s happening with curiosity, I can trust myself again. This is how I problem-solve best. This is what self-trust feels like: seeing ADHD less as a wild card, and more as a hand I know how to play.
Where to start with all this? Meet with me or any of the Center professionals to see if starting ADHD Coaching could help you spend less time apologizing and more time trusting yourself. We’re here for you, and you’re not alone.
Abby Riley
ADHD Coach and Life Coach, Executive Skills Coach