ADHD and the Six-Digit Code

Today is my 37th birthday, and if I could have one gift — no wrapping required — it would be a small reprieve from two-factor authentication.

I know. Cybersecurity. Identity theft. I’ve heard the arguments. I’m not unreasonable. I just also have ADHD, which means the gap between your code has been sent and me actually locating my phone, unlocking it, finding the text, reading the six digits, switching back to the original app, and entering them before they expire is… not always a gap I can close in time.

I have requested new codes while the original codes were still technically valid. I have, on at least one occasion, given up entirely and decided that whatever bill it was could wait until a more focused version of me showed up.

This isn’t laziness; it's a working memory thing. ADHD brains genuinely struggle to hold information across interruptions, which is, unfortunately, the entire premise of two-factor authentication. You disengage, reorient, hold the number in your head, switch back, and somewhere in that shuffle, the thread is gone. The code has expired. You’re back at square one.

There’s a specific kind of ADHD tax nobody talks about much: not the big, dramatic stuff, but the thousand tiny friction points that make ordinary life feel slightly harder than it looks from the outside. Two-factor authentication just happens to be the hill I’m choosing today, mostly because birthdays have a way of making you notice where your energy goes.

Thirty-seven feels like the age where you’re allowed to say that out loud. So happy birthday to me. Please send cake. And for the love of God, just let me log in.