Colin Ebsworth’s Maybe He’s Born With It, Maybe It’s ADHD is intensely funny and quietly devastating in the best way. It’s comedy that’s driven by lived truth; the show captures the chaos, humour, grief, and relief that come with realising, far later than expected, that your brain has been playing by different rules the whole time.

The heart of the performance lies in how precisely it articulates experiences that are rarely named on or off stage: the constant background noise, particularly that of self-criticism, the exhaustion of trying to keep up, the way small tasks and their steps balloon into insurmountable obstacles, and the lifelong habit of masking confusion with competence or jokes. Showing how some of ADHD’s traits ripple through friendships, work, relationships, and identity, particularly when the diagnosis comes in adulthood rather than childhood.

What makes the show especially compelling is its balance. It doesn’t romanticise ADHD or treat it like a punchline, instead sitting honestly in aspects of the mess. The relief of diagnosis or realisation alongside the confusion, the humour alongside the grief for the support that might have helped earlier. The result is a show that feels validating without being instructive, and incredibly funny without ever undermining its emotional core.

Maybe He’s Born With It, Maybe It’s ADHD is a rare Fringe show that manages to be deeply specific while feeling universal. It captures experiences that many people have lived quietly and privately and transforms them into a story that speaks directly to anyone navigating ADHD themselves or alongside someone they care about.