Hey there! I’m Em Gat, which is short for Emma (still Gat, though). "Em" feels way more like me. I’m an ADHD life coach, currently working on my certification, which I’ll have in about a month. I wanted to introduce myself, share a bit about my ADHD journey, and explain what led me to become a coach. This way, you can get a feel for my approach and why I’m passionate about what I do.
Early Experiences
Growing up with undiagnosed ADHD, I was often labeled as the trouble child. I was always talking, being curious, and questioning everything around me, including the teachers and the material they were teaching. Some teachers appreciated my curiosity and eagerness to learn, but many felt threatened by my constant questioning. They saw it as a challenge to their authority, which wasn't my intention, but it created a lot of tension.
In Israel (where I'm from), we address our teachers by their first names, which perhaps influenced my perspective on authority. However, my issues weren't just cultural. I never quite fit in, even back in Israel. I was always questioning the infallibility of authority figures, and I disliked hierarchical structures.
These challenges extended to my friendships as well. I often missed social cues, living in my own world and not noticing the dynamics around me. When I was younger, I had many friends, but their parents often saw me as problematic. My short attention span and hyperactivity were misunderstood, and I was often labeled as a bad kid, even though I never meant any harm.
I attended one of the first charter schools in Israel, where I was part of a small group of 40 kids (20 kids per class) from first grade through ninth grade. Despite the school's non-traditional approach and lack of grades, it was still competitive. Math was particularly challenging for me, and my frustration with the subject often led to behavioral issues. In fifth grade, I remember a particularly difficult incident with a new math teacher. She was calling me out for not paying attention, and in my frustration, I flipped her off in front of the whole class. It was a low point, and I had to publicly apologize, which was a nightmare for me.
On the flip side, I excelled in English, but this also caused friction with my teachers. I would often correct them or not pay attention, yet still ace the tests. This behavior annoyed them, and I felt like they hated me personally. Without understanding my ADHD, I internalized their reactions as a reflection of my worth.
Socially, I was labeled a crybaby and often found myself in conflicts where I felt misunderstood. I remember times when I thought I was standing up for myself, only to have the whole school turn against me for taking things too far. These experiences were tough and confusing, but they shaped who I am today.
Diagnosis and Realization
I was diagnosed with ADHD at age 16.5, right in the middle of our Bagrut exams in Israel. These exams, taken between grades 10-12, are crucial for one's future, even more so than AP exams in the US. Despite studying with all my heart and soul, I was failing miserably. I remember receiving multiple test results in one week, all under 50%. One test even came back with a note from the teacher saying it was a "word salad." I felt stupid and defeated.
Around that time, my older sister, who was 25, was also diagnosed with ADHD. My mom, noticing the similarities in our behaviors, suggested I get checked as well. After a series of tests, I was diagnosed with severe ADHD. The doctors were amazed I had managed to get this far in school without any support.
The diagnosis was a complete shock. I had to approach all my teachers and ask for a second chance before the Bagrut exams. Some were supportive, others weren't, but by the end of the year, even the skeptical teachers understood the importance of an ADHD diagnosis in transforming a struggling student into a successful one.
Before the diagnosis, I was placed in a special class for students with learning disabilities during my first year of high school (10th grade). However, I was far ahead of my classmates academically, which led to relentless bullying. They cursed at me, spread rumors, and even threw stones at me during class trips. After my diagnosis in June 2006, I was transferred to a regular classroom, but the bullying had already taken root.
Despite the bullying, I did relatively well socially outside of that class, although I never formed lasting friendships. Rumors about me were always swirling. I often compared myself to Serena Van Der Woodsen from Gossip Girl, which premiered in 2007, to cope with the constant speculation about me.
Once I received the diagnosis, I dove into researching everything about ADHD. While this helped me understand my condition, it also made me realize that ADHD is a spectrum, and each person's experience is unique. I also became addicted to my ADHD medication, feeling like it was a "magic pill" that made me capable of conquering the world. However, this overuse contributed to my generalized anxiety disorder (GAD). It took years to balance my medication and manage my anxiety effectively.
Post-Diagnosis Teenage Struggles (Ages 17-19)
After my diagnosis, I started seeing an ADHD life coach and taking medications. However, my life coach used methods that I don't use in my coaching practice today. She acted more like a mentor, often telling me what to do based on various concepts she had learned, such as Buddhist teachings. While that approach might have been well-intentioned, it didn't resonate with me or help me develop a healthy perspective on life and myself.
At the time, I thought I needed someone to guide me directly, but looking back, it wasn't the best approach. This experience made me skeptical about coaching for a long time. I'll discuss this more later when I talk about how I got into coaching, but it’s important to note that my former coach's approach was not suitable for someone with ADHD.
During those years, my life was a whirlwind of pills and coaching sessions. As a teenager facing the most critical exams of my life, I was incredibly confused and stressed. This period was probably the worst time of my life. I have journal entries from when I was 18 that reflect my deep despair and frustration. I wrote things like, "What good is it to live with ADHD? Anyone who has ADHD and is suffering from it the way I do should die. Really. I'm serious." and "This ADHD—it's killing me. It's destroying me. I hate it. It hates me."
I was terrified that my life would always be more complicated and difficult to manage than others’. I struggled to understand why fitting into the societal box seemed impossible for me. The honest truth is that the life I was living back then, with its immense stresses, was not conducive to managing ADHD. It wasn't a good example of how my life would eventually turn out. However, it was a crucial lesson in what I didn't want for my future. It taught me to avoid certain stressors and situations to live a more fulfilling life where I don’t feel like I’m constantly swimming upstream.
These years weren’t about finding solutions. They were about survival and learning what didn’t work for me.
Early Adulthood In Israel
At 18, I was supposed to go to the army, as is customary in Israel. However, due to my ADHD, I was released from duty. I didn’t ask for this; I merely requested a shorter bootcamp session, but they decided I wasn't a good fit. I attempted national service instead, volunteering with different organizations, but it was hard to find a place that would accept me. Eventually, I stopped trying. I was still working on finishing my Bagrut exams well after the end of school and finally completed them at 21. This was incredibly disheartening. Everyone else had already finished their exams and was serving the country in some capacity. I felt like a total failure, walking around feeling deficient, stupid, and unwell. My nights became days and my days became nights.
I couldn’t keep a job, not because I was getting fired, but because I couldn’t find a job where I felt valued. I often felt like I was treated like a good-for-nothing, and I couldn’t handle that feeling. Without a Bagrut or an army service record, I looked like a failure to people, and I was treated as such.
On the positive side, my relationship with my now-husband, Alex, began when I was 17. He has always been my rock, loving me despite the faults everyone else was quick to point out. This relationship provided me with one safe space. My relationship with my parents was tense during those years, likely because they were scared for my future and felt I was squandering it.
Around the age of 18, I became increasingly interested in psychology and therapy. I started buying textbooks and reading them for fun, knowing I wanted to become a therapist. This became my plan.
In addition to this newfound passion, I planned to move to the United States. Growing up watching American TV made me feel like I belonged there more than in Israel, where I was treated like a problem. I believed America, especially California, offered the vastness and peace of mind I craved. So, I started planning the move with my then-boyfriend, Alex.
My biggest focus during those years was planning the move. I needed to find a college that would accept me so I could stay in the US. Eventually, I decided on San Francisco State University. I vividly remember the moment I found out I was accepted—I even have a picture of that moment, included below.
Moving to the US from Israel at 22 was a huge step. I had never lived alone before, let alone somewhere so far away. But I knew I had to do it. I couldn’t handle being in Israel anymore; it felt like the right thing to do. So, after thorough planning, I flew to the US in August 2012 with Alex.
Moving to the US & Adjusting to a New Life
When Alex and I first arrived in San Francisco, we were full of excitement, imagining the city as a vibrant place to start our new life. But we were quickly disillusioned. The city’s atmosphere didn’t resonate with us, and we found ourselves hating it almost immediately. This unexpected reaction was disheartening, especially after all the anticipation. We realized we didn’t want to live there and began moving further south, away from the city. This experience taught us the importance of finding a place that truly feels like home.
I enrolled at San Francisco State University, initially eager to study psychology. However, the program was too competitive, forcing me to explore other options. I switched majors several times before discovering Africana Studies through a general education class called Black Psychology. The subject matter fascinated me, and I found myself drawn to the complexities and depth of this field. Africana Studies eventually became my major and led to my degree. Despite finding academic success, the lack of friends and the challenges of adapting to a new environment left me feeling isolated.
Throughout my time at SFSU, I faced numerous challenges, especially with instructors. Some teachers appreciated my enthusiasm, while others found me difficult to manage. The pressure to maintain a full course load for my student visa added to the stress. At one point, I even paused my studies to explore cosmetology school, only to realize it wasn’t for me. This constant struggle made finishing my degree feel like a battle, and when I finally graduated, I opted to skip the ceremony, choosing instead to have my diploma mailed to me. It was a bittersweet victory, marked by exhaustion rather than celebration.
Being on a student visa also meant I couldn’t work, which added another layer of stress. Aside from some occasional babysitting, I wasn’t able to gain any significant work experience during my twenties. This lack of work experience weighed heavily on me, knowing it could affect my future. The combination of academic pressures, social isolation, and the inability to work created a challenging environment that I struggled to navigate.
Struggles with Counseling Programs and a New Direction
After completing my degree, I found a nearby school offering Master’s degrees in counseling. This felt like the perfect next step, allowing me to pursue a career that aligned with my passion for psychology but without the heavy mathematical focus. I was excited and made sure to secure the necessary accommodations for my ADHD, like taking breaks during classes. Initially, everything seemed promising. However, things quickly turned sour as my cohort members and instructors began to view my accommodations as disruptive rather than supportive.
This misunderstanding led to constant conflicts, and I was eventually kicked out of the program, being told that I wasn’t a good fit for the counseling profession. The rejection was devastating. After spending so much time and energy working towards this goal, being told I wasn’t good enough left me feeling broken. I even reached out to various agencies for support, but nothing helped. I took a break from school, feeling lost and unsure of my future.
In 2021, I decided to try again with an online counseling program. Despite my reservations, I was hopeful this new approach would be a better fit. However, the same issues arose. I was placed on behavioral probation without clear explanations, leading to increasing anxiety and ultimately, another dismissal. This second rejection, coupled with being kicked out of a volunteer child advocate program for drawing during a presentation, left me questioning everything. I knew these experiences were tied to my ADHD, and it was a hard realization that my condition was impacting my ability to pursue my chosen career.
These experiences forced me to rethink my path. By 2022, I had been living with my ADHD diagnosis for 16 years and began to see that maybe my ADHD was the key to understanding my struggles. Instead of fighting against it, I started to consider how I could work with it. This led me to explore ADHD coaching, a field I had previously been skeptical about. When I discovered the iACT Center’s ADHD Counseling program in 2023, I decided to apply for their scholarship, seeing it as a sign that this might be the right direction for me. Winning the scholarship confirmed that I was on the right path, and I began to embrace ADHD coaching as my new career focus.
Embracing ADHD and Becoming a Coach
Starting the ADHD life coaching program at the iACT Center was a transformative experience. Initially, I was skeptical, thinking that coaching was a superficial solution compared to the depth of psychology and counseling. But I quickly realized how much I had to learn. The program was incredibly valuable, not only in terms of the content but also in helping me connect with a community of people who understood my experiences. The instructors and fellow students, many of whom had ADHD themselves, created a warm, welcoming environment where I finally felt understood and accepted.
Through this life journey, I’ve come to love my ADHD. The challenges I faced weren’t about me being problematic; they were about others not understanding the unique way my mind works. My ADHD makes me who I am—excited, giddy, and full of energy in ways that can sometimes be misunderstood. But instead of seeing this as a flaw, I’ve learned to embrace it as a strength. Coaching has shown me that what might seem like a disadvantage can actually be a powerful tool for helping others.
My goal as an ADHD coach is to help others see that their journey, while difficult, is also unique and valuable. I want to work with teenagers and adults because I know firsthand how challenging these stages of life can be with ADHD. My journey started as a teenager struggling with my diagnosis and continued into adulthood as I learned to embrace and love myself. Now, I want to guide others on their journeys, helping them see that their struggles don’t define them but rather make them who they are.
In my coaching practice, I focus on helping clients recognize their strengths and navigate their challenges in a way that feels true to them. I believe that everyone’s path is different, and that’s what makes each person’s story special. My experiences have taught me that while the road may be winding, it’s also scenic and full of unexpected opportunities. I’m here to help others see the beauty in their journey and to empower them to embrace their ADHD as a unique part of who they are.
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