Living with a partner with ADHD often means taking on more than you signed up for. The same concerns get raised and don't resolve. You find yourself compensating in ways you didn't anticipate: your partner lets slip, absorbing the consequences of decisions that weren't yours, quietly reorganizing your life around what isn't getting done. At some point the balance of the relationship starts to feel less like a partnership and more like a responsibility.
Part of what makes this so difficult to navigate is that you can't always tell how much is the ADHD and how much is something else — about your partner, about the relationship, or about what you're willing to accept. You may have read about ADHD and tried to be understanding. You may have adjusted your expectations more than once. And yet the same concerns keep not resolving, and at some point the accumulated weight of it starts to feel harder to carry than you expected when this all began. Most partners with ADHD are genuinely trying. The time blindness isn't indifference. The overcommitment isn't carelessness. Understanding that doesn't always make it easier to live with, and it doesn't resolve the legitimate question of what you have a right to expect from a relationship.
My work with people with ADHD — in skills groups, in assessment, and in individual therapy spanning more than a decade — has given me a close understanding of how ADHD operates in relationships from multiple angles.
What therapy can offer in this situation is less about managing your partner more effectively and more about getting clearer on your own experience: what you're carrying, what you need, and what you want the relationship to look like going forward. That clarity tends to be useful regardless of what your partner does or doesn't change.
If this is where you are, I'd welcome the chance to talk.