When life gets wavy: try giving yourself permission

Like all good ADHD-brain stories, there’s usually a backstory… plus a few tangents along the way. This one is no different.

When I was naming my coaching and consultancy practice, a former copywriter colleague (turned friend) helped me brainstorm. I gave her what I now realize was a very Lindsay brief:

I didn’t want ADHD in the name.
I didn’t want my name in the name.
I didn’t want “coach” or “coaching.”
I wanted it to feel fun, but not cheesy.
Approachable, but still taken seriously.
Tongue-in-cheek, but not try-hard.
Very “me.” (What does that even mean??)

At the time, I chalked this up to my brand-marketing background and my strong opinions about words and the language we use. That was definitely part of it. But the deeper truth revealed itself later.  As I dove further into my own neurodiversity journey—while building a business, raising kids, unpacking family dynamics, navigating therapy (CBT, EMDR, couples - literally, all the therapy), coaching, and quietly realizing I might also be autistic—I started to see something more clearly:

ADHD is a real and important part of my story, but it’s only one small piece of a much bigger picture. Neurodiversity isn’t a diagnosis. It’s a social framework. Like biodiversity, it acknowledges that there is natural variation in how human brains think, process, feel, and exist in the world. There is no single “normal.” There never was.

And once that idea really landed—not intellectually, but viscerally and in my bones, everything shifted.

What I’m doing in my work isn’t just helping people hit goals, manage tasks, or follow through. We’re working together to practice a way of living. A way that accounts for reality. For energy. For capacity. For seasons. Which brings me to the waves.

Life is wavy. Period.
There’s no hack around it.  (Don’t get me started on a tangent about the word hack and why I think it should be eliminated from the dictionary…)

There are always too many tabs open in our brains: work deadlines, family logistics, conversations we’re replaying, decisions we’re avoiding, expectations we didn’t consciously agree to, and yes—sometimes a stranger who cut us off in traffic and somehow stole our nervous system for the next 20 minutes.

Especially for neurodivergent individuals, the problem isn’t that life is wavy. The problem is that we’re taught we should be able to function as if it isn’t.There is no “fix” for an ADHD brain. I’ve always known that. But what this practice—and my clients—have taught me is this:

When we give ourselves permission to respond to life as it actually is (not as it should be), things soften.

The waves don’t disappear, but they become more navigable.
Less splashy. More flowy.
And with that flow comes relief. Space. Ease.
Flexibility matters. Intention matters.

It’s why buildings are designed to sway with wind instead of resisting it. Why bridges are engineered to move instead of staying rigid. Why conversations go better when we loosen our grip on being “right” and make room for curiosity—even if we still disagree.

Rigidity snaps. Flexibility adapts.
So when life gets extra wavy—hello, holidays—try asking yourself a different kind of question:

What would permission look like right now?
Not what you should do.
Not what other people expect.
But what would help you feel more like yourself—or get through the moment with a little less friction.

Maybe permission looks like a 20-minute reset before starting the next thing, letting yourself land & reset before moving on. Not because you earned it, but because your brain needs it (ease back in from the busy holiday season, ya know)
Or a solo walk before a family gathering you’re bracing for.
Or canceling a coffee date because your social battery is cooked.
Or doing the thing in a way that looks “unhinged” from the outside but works beautifully for your brain.  

There are no rules for how to do life. There is no gold star for pushing through.

That’s why I eventually landed on the name The Wavy Brain. Not as a brand, company or label, but as a reminder: this isn’t something to fix. It’s a way of being. Life moves. Brains vary. Flexibility is the point.  Even in the logo, notice how one “A” is rounded and one is pointy? That’s because no two neurodivergent people experience the world the same way. And they’re not supposed to.

There is only what works—for you.
What does permission look like for you this season?
Messy answers are welcome and encouraged.