A real one. Not the kind where you think about it for three weeks and then talk yourself out of it. An actual, concrete, put-it-into-action decision.
And then my brain immediately tried to undo it.
Not because it was the wrong decision. Not because anything bad happened. But because I'd made it. And now it was real. And my nervous system didn't know what to do with that.
Let me back up.
I've been going round and round about my niche for weeks. Months, probably. I know I talk about ADHD naturally. I know I live it. I know the people who find me are looking for exactly that. But actually committing to it, actually changing the language, actually building something specifically for women with ADHD. That felt like a different thing entirely.
And then I had a session with my mentor and something clicked. The gut said yes. The body said yes. I started building. I created the group. I started putting it all into action.
It felt right. Really right.
And then I calmed down.
And that's when my brain kicked in with the audit. "Was that really the right choice? Did you really do the right thing? Was it just a knee-jerk reaction? Was that your gut talking or was that your ADHD impulse to do something new and exciting?"
Here's what nobody talks about. Everyone tells you to take the leap. Trust your gut. Back yourself. Do the thing. And then you do the thing. And the part that comes next, the bit after the jump, nobody warns you about that.
Because after the jump, your nervous system goes into freefall.
The excitement that powered the decision wears off. And what's left is this wobbly, anxious, second-guessing mess where your brain is cycling through every possible way this could go wrong. It's like jumping off a diving board and then, mid-air, wondering if there's water in the pool.
And if you have ADHD, it's worse. Because ADHD brains are impulsive. We know that about ourselves. So every decision we make gets retroactively questioned. "Was that real knowing, or was that just dopamine chasing something shiny?"
I was cycling through names for the new group. Changing the angle. Tweaking the positioning. Thinking maybe I should just undo the whole thing and put it back the way it was.
And then I caught myself.
Because I've been here before. This is the pattern. Make a plan, doubt the plan, spiral about the plan, abandon the plan, start over. And the starting over always feels like relief in the moment, but it's not strategy. It's just my nervous system trying to get back to familiar ground.
The thing is, I hadn't been impulsive. When I actually looked at it, I'd been circling this decision for weeks. I'd journaled about it. I'd raged about being told to tone down who I am. I'd said out loud that the universe had already given me the answer. I'd kept coming back to the same thing over and over again, even after I'd tried to talk myself out of it.
Impulse doesn't do that. Impulse doesn't survive weeks of interrogation.
Gut does.
And there was something else I noticed. The old strategy wasn't working. I knew that. There was zero uncertainty about that part. The only uncertainty was about the new thing. And my brain was using that uncertainty as evidence that I'd got it wrong.
But uncertainty isn't evidence. It's just the cost of doing something you haven't done before.
I hadn't burned anything down. I hadn't deleted anything. I'd kept the original group intact. I'd built in a way to reverse the whole thing if it didn't work. I'd planned to be honest with my members about the fact that I was experimenting.
That's not impulsive. Impulsive people don't build in exit routes and contingency plans.
What I was actually experiencing was my nervous system trying to process the vulnerability of having committed to something before certainty arrived. And certainty wasn't coming. Not this week. Not next week. Maybe not for a while.
And that's the bit that's hard. Not the decision. The waiting. The sitting in it. The letting it exist without auditing it every five minutes.
So I'm letting it exist.
Not because I'm sure. But because the discomfort I'm feeling right now isn't a sign I chose wrong. It's just what it feels like to break a pattern. And breaking patterns is supposed to feel uncomfortable. That's how you know it's actually different this time.
If you're sitting in that place right now, where you made the move but your brain is screaming at you to undo it, I want you to know something. That feeling isn't a red flag. It's your nervous system catching up to a decision your gut already made.
Don't let it talk you into going back to the thing that wasn't working just because the new thing feels uncertain.
Uncertain is not the same as wrong.
If you want to see what it's all about, I have a 7 day free trial for the ADHD Reset Lab and you will get a live Yoga Nidra in the trial if you join this week.