Lately, I’ve been working intentionally with my severe ADHD tendencies—not by forcing myself into rigid systems, but by building something sustainable: a daily baseline checklist, paired with goals that are specific to that particular day.
The shift matters.
Instead of addressing my life in frantic spurts of productivity followed by burnout or avoidance, I’m practicing something new: mindful consistency. Certain routines and priorities show up every day, not perfectly, but deliberately. They anchor me. Everything else becomes flexible rather than overwhelming.
Today, for example, was still very much a catch-up day—household tasks, loose ends, half-finished projects that had been lingering longer than I’d like to admit. And yet, what made today different wasn’t how much I completed.
It was the inner dialogue I carried with me while doing it.
Learning to Speak to Myself Like Someone I Love
As I moved through the day, I practiced pacing myself the way I would a close friend—someone I care about deeply. That means honesty without cruelty and kindness without enabling.
When frustration tried to creep in, I didn’t fight it or shame it away. Instead, in my mind’s eye, I noticed it… and gently redirected my thoughts. Not with toxic positivity, but with grounded reassurance:
You’re doing what you can today. Keep going. One thing at a time.
This kind of self-talk doesn’t come naturally to me. It has been learned slowly, through awareness, repetition, and a willingness to pause instead of panic.
The Gift—and Cost—of Space
I’m deeply aware that this healing has required space—space I might not have had if I were still caught in the hustle, expectations, and relentless pace of a full-time job that never aligned with how my brain works.
Not having my own income hasn’t been easy. It has stretched my pride, my patience, and my sense of identity. And yet, I’m grateful for the room it gave me to do the kind of internal work I couldn’t rush.
What’s interesting is that as I get healthier, I’m actually working more—just differently. I’m setting my own goals. I’m engaging with projects that excite me. I’m building toward something that feels aligned rather than constantly trying to contort myself to fit into systems that were never designed for minds like mine.
Gratitude Without Denial
None of this has been possible without my husband’s commitment and support. That partnership mattered. So did my own awakening—what I can only describe as a spiritual kind of healing. Not performative. Not dramatic. Just deeply calming. The kind that slowly settles a nervous system that has been on high alert for most of a lifetime.
I don’t have much in the way of material wealth. I don’t have children to carry on a visible legacy. But I do have perspective—earned through experience, struggle, and reflection.
And I’m learning to appreciate that.
Redefining Richness
I’ve come to believe that peace and happiness without wealth or status can be richer than a life filled with possessions, titles, or external validation. Especially when peace is rooted in things that endure beyond circumstances, roles, or productivity.
I’m still learning. Still practicing. Still catching up some days.
But I’m no longer abandoning myself in the process.
And that, for me, feels like real progress.
My prompt is this:
When that familiar voice shows up telling you who you should be by now, how can you pause long enough to interrupt the transmission and redirect yourself with the same love and care you would give a best friend or loved one?
Think on that, and if you’re able, leave a comment below.
