78: Prioritizing for Big Events with an ADHD Brain

“It Isn’t a Priority,” Not an Excuse

I recently heard Mel Robbins say something that stuck with me: practice saying “it isn’t a priority” instead of making an excuse for yourself. That landed right as I was heading into a big family event, my son’s college graduation, where I knew I’d be surrounded by naturally detail-oriented planners with plenty of expectations I wasn’t wired to meet the way they would.

Recognizing the real pattern

When anxiety creeps in around a lot of highly organized, linear-thinking people, my instinct has often been to downplay myself or make excuses for not having planned every detail. But the truth is simpler: it wasn’t a priority for me, because controlling every detail of an event genuinely isn’t how my brain works. There’s often this unspoken assumption that the weight of an event automatically falls to the mom, even when the mom isn’t wired for that kind of comprehensive planning, just because of the role itself.

What we actually locked down, and what we didn’t

For this graduation, my husband and I made sure the essentials were covered: the actual ceremony times and locations, the celebratory dinner reservation, and the hotel arrangements. Beyond that, I felt no pull to control anyone’s schedule, and honestly, it wasn’t about me at all. When someone would ask why something wasn’t planned out further, I wanted to be able to answer simply: it wasn’t a priority. Not defensively, just factually.

Two brains seeking two different kinds of comfort

The questions from detail-oriented people in your life usually aren’t meant to make you feel inadequate, even though they can land that way. Their brains find comfort in having every detail locked down, the same way our brains find comfort in having room to breathe without micromanaging every moment. Neither approach is wrong, they’re just different ways of seeking stability.

Naming what actually mattered

Instead of trying to plan everything, I got specific about my real priorities for the weekend: I wanted my son to feel genuinely celebrated, and I wanted him to feel free to spend time with the friends he was about to say goodbye to, without guilt. Beyond the handful of family commitments, I let him lead, letting him choose what to show his grandparents on campus, picking his favorite casual restaurant, deciding how to spend unscheduled pockets of time. That openness is what made the weekend feel special, not a tightly managed itinerary.

How it turned out

Everyone made it to the places that actually needed scheduling. Everyone wore appropriate clothing without being told. Everyone ate. We got wonderful photos, with family and with his friends. Because my expectations were built around a loose framework rather than a rigid plan, I wasn’t left feeling let down by anything that didn’t happen exactly as scripted.

Moving forward instead of relitigating the past

One advantage of being a fish rather than a monkey is that once a big event passes, the current naturally carries you forward to whatever’s next. There’s no upside to sitting at the top of a tree with hindsight, replaying everything you could have or should have done differently. That kind of dwelling only steals from the joy you actually experienced. Hold onto the parts that were genuinely good, and let yourself move toward whatever’s next.

Your practical, actionable step

Before your next big event, decide in advance what your one or two real priorities actually are, then build only the loosest framework needed to support them. When someone questions a detail you didn’t plan for, practice answering simply: “That wasn’t a priority,” or “I’m choosing not to prioritize that right now,” and let the rest fill in organically.

Until next time, continue to choose joy.