I’ve decided that somewhere along the way, we collectively agreed that being a successful adult means being consistent.
Consistently productive. Consistently organized. Consistently motivated. Consistently on time. Consistently able to remember things, manage schedules, respond to emails, keep up with responsibilities, and somehow still have the energy to be a pleasant human being at the end of the day.
Apparently, we’re all supposed to wake up every morning with the same amount of energy, the same level of focus, and the same ability to handle whatever life decides to throw at us.
I’d love to meet the person who came up with this expectation. I have questions. Because after years of raising neurodivergent kids, managing businesses, juggling responsibilities, and occasionally wondering why I walked into a room, I’ve learned something that seems incredibly obvious but is surprisingly difficult to accept.
Being capable of something doesn’t mean you’re going to be equally capable of it every single day.
And yet, we seem determined to measure ourselves – and everyone around us – as though that’s exactly how people work.
We Love Consistency Until Real Life Gets Involved
Think about how often we use consistency as a measure of success.
We want students to consistently turn in assignments. Employees to consistently meet deadlines. Kids to consistently follow routines. Adults to consistently manage their responsibilities.
And those aren’t unreasonable goals. Reliability matters. Responsibilities don’t disappear just because we’re having an off day, and I’m certainly not suggesting we throw expectations out the window and see what happens.
Although, admittedly, there are days when that sounds appealing.
But somewhere along the way, we started treating consistency as though it should mean performing at exactly the same level under every possible circumstance.
We forget that the person who handled everything beautifully on Monday might have slept terribly on Tuesday. That the student who finished an assignment independently yesterday may be dealing with sensory overload today. That the employee who managed a complicated project last week might be struggling to concentrate after three days of interruptions and unexpected problems.
The expectation stays the same, even when the circumstances don’t.
And when someone’s performance changes, we tend to question their effort before we question what changed around them.
“But You Did It Yesterday”
If I had a dollar for every variation of this sentence I’ve heard over the years, NeuroLocker would have a significantly larger development budget.
“But you did it yesterday.” “You know how to do this.” “You didn’t need help last time.” “Why can’t you just do it the same way again?”
I’ve heard those questions directed at my kids. And if I’m being fair, I’ve probably asked versions of them myself.
Because from the outside, inconsistency is confusing. When you’ve watched someone successfully complete something, it’s natural to assume that ability is now permanently available whenever they need it.
But that assumption misses something important. Knowing how to do something is not the same as having access to the mental resources needed to do it at that particular moment.
Executive function plays a role in planning, remembering, initiating tasks, managing attention, regulating responses, and shifting between activities. Those processes don’t operate independently of sleep, stress, emotional demands, sensory input, or everything else happening in someone’s day.
A student can understand the assignment perfectly and still struggle to begin it. Someone can follow a routine successfully for two weeks and then have a day when every step feels harder than usual.
The skill hasn’t necessarily disappeared. The conditions under which they’re trying to use it have changed.
Inconsistency Has a Way of Becoming a Character Judgment
This is the part that bothers me most.
When someone performs consistently, we tend to describe them as responsible, disciplined, reliable, or motivated.
When their performance becomes inconsistent, the language changes. Lazy. Careless. Not trying. Not taking things seriously. Needs to be more responsible.
And suddenly, instead of talking about what someone is struggling to manage, we’re talking about who we think they are as a person.
I saw this happen in school more times than I care to remember.
When my kids could do something independently, that success was sometimes treated as evidence that they shouldn’t need support anymore. When they struggled with the same thing later, the conversation shifted toward effort, accountability, or what we needed to be doing differently at home.
Apparently, the fact that something worked once meant we should be able to reproduce that exact result indefinitely. Wouldn’t that be convenient?
But I learned that the more useful question wasn’t always, “Why aren’t you doing what you did yesterday?”
It was, “What was different about yesterday that made it work?”
Maybe there was more structure. Maybe the instructions were clearer. Maybe there were fewer distractions. Maybe someone helped them get started. Maybe they had more energy.
Those details matter. And if we ignore them, we can end up taking away the very supports that helped someone succeed in the first place.
Adults Aren’t Exactly Immune to This Either
I wish I could say this pressure disappears when we grow up. It does not. It just gets better branding.
Now we call it productivity, discipline, time management, professional responsibility, and personal accountability.
Again, none of those things is inherently bad. I believe in accountability. I believe in following through. I believe in doing what you say you’re going to do.
But I also know that I can have a day when I accomplish an incredible amount of work and another day when answering a relatively simple email feels like I’m drafting an international peace treaty.
Same computer. Same email account. Same person. Very different brain availability.
And when that happens, it’s incredibly tempting to compare today’s performance with yesterday’s. What is wrong with me today? Why am I moving so slowly? I should be getting more done.
As though the fact that I was productive yesterday created some legally binding agreement requiring me to perform at that exact level for the rest of my natural life.
I don’t remember signing that contract. And I’d like to review the terms.
Consistency and Reliability Aren’t Exactly the Same Thing
Here’s where I think we need to make an important distinction.
Being reliable doesn’t necessarily mean doing everything the same way every day. Sometimes reliability comes from having systems that help you follow through even when your energy, attention, or capacity changes.
Think about it.
We don’t expect our cars to operate without maintenance. We don’t expect technology to function without updates, adjustments, or the occasional deeply irritating restart.
But when it comes to people, we act as though needing additional support on a difficult day somehow invalidates their ability to function independently on a good one.
Maybe consistency shouldn’t mean never needing help. Maybe it should mean having ways to respond when things aren’t working as expected.
That could look like using reminders when your memory is overloaded, breaking a project into smaller steps when getting started feels difficult, adjusting your environment when concentration is harder, or communicating that you need more time before something becomes a crisis.
The responsibility is still there. We’re just acknowledging that there may be more than one way to meet it.
Sometimes Our Expectations Need to Be More Flexible Than Our Goals
I think this is especially important when we’re supporting kids.
We absolutely want them to build independence. We want them to learn responsibility, manage their time, complete assignments, and develop the skills they’ll need as they get older.
But independence isn’t necessarily a straight line. Some days they may need more guidance. Other days they may surprise us by managing something entirely on their own.
That’s not automatically a sign that they’re manipulating the situation, avoiding responsibility, or suddenly forgetting everything we’ve taught them. It may simply mean their support needs have changed. And I think we need to get more comfortable with that.
If a student needs a checklist on Tuesday but doesn’t need it on Wednesday, wonderful. The checklist did its job when it was needed. If they need it again on Thursday, that doesn’t erase Wednesday’s success.
We don’t have to turn every good day into a new minimum requirement. Sometimes a good day is simply a good day. And we should probably let people enjoy it without immediately raising the bar.
The Problem With Building Systems for Your Best Days
This is something we’ve thought about quite a bit while building NeuroLocker.
A lot of productivity systems work beautifully when you’re motivated, focused, organized, and have enough energy to maintain them.
Which is great. Except those aren’t necessarily the days when you need the most support.
The harder days are when the reminders matter. When having your tasks in one place matters. When being able to capture a thought before it disappears matters. When having a calendar or a focus timer available can reduce some of the work your brain is trying to manage.
And even then, not every tool will be equally useful every day.
That’s why we’re interested in building support that can be used in different ways depending on what someone needs, rather than expecting everyone to follow one perfectly consistent routine.
We’re still developing and improving NeuroLocker, and there’s plenty more we want it to do. But the philosophy behind it is pretty simple.
The system should help you navigate your changing capacity, not punish you for having it. Because if your productivity system only works when you’re already functioning at your best, it’s probably not doing enough of the work.
Maybe We Need a Different Definition of Consistency
I don’t think the answer is to stop expecting things from ourselves or the people around us. Expectations matter. Growth matters. Follow-through matters.
But maybe we need to stop treating consistency as proof of character and inconsistency as evidence of failure.
Maybe the goal isn’t to show up every day with exactly the same energy, focus, or mental capacity. Maybe it’s to recognize what we have available, understand what the day is asking of us, and use the supports that help us move forward.
Some days that might mean accomplishing everything on the list. Other days it might mean adjusting the list, asking for help, or finding a different way to get something done. And some days, getting through the essentials without losing your mind is a perfectly respectable accomplishment.
I’ve spent enough years watching my kids – and myself – navigate expectations that don’t always account for how brains actually function.
What I’ve learned is that progress isn’t always consistent. Support doesn’t always look the same. And needing something different today doesn’t erase what you were capable of yesterday.
So perhaps we can stop expecting ourselves to function like perfectly calibrated machines. We’re human beings. And frankly, even the machines need a restart occasionally.
Talk soon,
Jill
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