The Lazy Person's Guide to Better Habits (It's All About Design)

I've been thinking about willpower lately. Actually, that's not quite right. I've been thinking about how I used to beat myself up for not having enough of it.

A few years back, I remember standing in my kitchen at around 9pm, eating peanut butter straight from the jar while simultaneously googling "how to have more self-control." The irony wasn't lost on me. But that's the thing... we keep looking for the solution in the wrong place.

The phone that somehow migrates from the kitchen counter to your hand? The veggies turning into science experiments in the bottom drawer of your fridge while you order takeout for the third time this week? That morning routine that lasted exactly four days before real life showed up and laughed at your color-coded schedule?

I used to think these were character flaws. Evidence that I just wasn't disciplined enough.

Something I didn't realize for a long time though, is that the people who look like they've got their habits handled aren't superhuman. They just set things up so they aren’t constantly working against themselves.

Why Your Willpower Isn't the Problem

I used to collect planners like some people collect shoes.

January would roll around and I'd convince myself that THIS system, this particular arrangement of boxes and lines and motivational quotes, would be the one that finally turned me into someone who meal preps on Sundays and remembers to take my vitamins.

By February, the planner would be buried somewhere under a pile of mail on my kitchen counter, completely forgotten.

For the longest time, I couldn’t understand why I kept abandoning every routine I tried. Then I learned I have ADHD, and everything made a lot more sense. My brain lights up at anything new, like a kid on Christmas morning. But once that newness fades, usually within a week or so, I’m left wrestling with systems that were never built for the way my brain actually works.

If I'm honest, most habits don't fall apart because we're flawed or lazy. They fall apart because we're trying to function inside setups that are quietly working against us. It's exhausting for any nervous system, especially one that already has to work harder to organize, filter, and stay focused.

Grocery stores are a good example of just how much our environment shapes us. The first thing you see is the flowers. Then the produce. And the snacks are always right where you’ll notice them. That layout is intentional. It’s designed to influence what you pick up without thinking about it.

We know stores manipulate us. We accept it. Then we go home and wonder why we can't just "be better."

Your phone? Designed by literal teams of neuroscientists whose job is to make it impossible to put down. Even having it in the same room, silent, face-down, supposedly "off limits"... it pulls at your attention in ways you don't even consciously notice.

By evening, decision fatigue has set in. What to wear, what to eat, how to respond to that text that rubbed you the wrong way. Each tiny decision chips away at a limited resource. By the time you're trying to make the "good" choice about dinner or evening habits, you're running on fumes.

It’s no surprise your willpower feels unreliable. You’re not weak, you’re simply tired from moving through a world that pulls at you from every direction all day long.

The Friction You Don't See (But Feel Every Day)

There's a simple little model from behavioral science that helped me make sense of things: a behavior usually shows up when three pieces line up. You want to do it, you're able to do it, and something nudges you at the right moment.

We always focus on the motivation part. We try to pump ourselves up, save inspirational quotes, and follow accounts that we hope will make us want it more. We use shame as our fuel, thinking that if we just feel bad enough about ourselves, we'll finally change.

But motivation doesn’t work that way. It shows up when things are calm and disappears the minute life starts to get a bit hectic. You might feel ready to take on the world on Sunday night while you’re planning your week, but by Wednesday you’re just trying to get through the day, nevermind sticking to a plan.

What works is actually pretty simple. Just make the behavior easier, and let your environment cue you when it’s time. This is what I mean by friction... the tiny barriers that add just enough resistance to push you toward the easiest choice.

Take my water bottle, for example. I bought one with those little time goals printed on the side, all cheerful and bossy. Except it was never where I needed it. Tuesday the bottle was in my car, Wednesday it somehow ended up in the dishwasher, and by Thursday I was wandering around the house trying to remember where I’d left the dang thing.

Meanwhile, my glass lived on the counter. Clean. Ready. Zero friction.

Guess which one I reached for every single morning?

I had a patient, let's call her Lisa, whose back hurt so badly she'd wince every time she got out of her car. She owned a yoga mat, knew the stretches, and genuinely wanted to do them. But that mat lived in the back of her hall closet, behind the winter coats and a pile of boxes.

She told me, "I think about getting it out, and then I think about moving all that stuff, and I just... don't."

We didn't create a new routine or talk about motivation. We simply moved her mat into the kitchen next to her coffee maker.

She texted me three days later: "I stretched while my coffee brewed. It felt weird at first, like I was cheating somehow. Is it supposed to be this easy?"

Yes. Yes, it is.

Making Good Choices the Path of Least Resistance

One thing I’ve learned about mornings is that they actually start the night before. Making decisions at 6am when you’re half‑awake is nearly impossible. But the you who’s still up tonight has more perspective, and she can set the tone for tomorrow.

For the longest time, my mornings were chaos. I'd stand in my closet, overwhelmed by figuring out what to wear, running late, and then end up in the same pair of jeans I always wear anyway. The mental energy I burned just trying to pick a shirt was ridiculous.

Now? Clothes are out the night before. And it's not because I'm organized (I'm really not), but because I know morning-me can't be trusted with decisions.

The same goes for breakfast. Even if that just means knowing which coffee shop you're stopping at. Or putting the book you want to read on top of your phone so you have to physically move it in order to start scrolling through your messages.

I don't really think of these as "life hacks." They're more like small kindnesses you give your future self so your morning doesn’t turn into a battle before it even begins.

Evening-you tends to have more clarity. A few intentional steps at night can create an entirely different morning. When your morning starts with fewer negotiations and compromises, everything that follows typically has an easier rhythm... or at least that's been my experience.

The Digital Environment

Phones are a problem for most of us, even if we don’t want to admit it. We’re basically carrying around tiny distraction devices and then acting surprised when our attention disappears.

I kept mine on my nightstand for years. "It's just my alarm," I'd tell myself. But somehow checking the time at 2am would somehow turn into reading about someone’s cousin’s wedding drama, and before I know it, it’s 3am and I’ve wandered into a rabbit hole I never planned on opening.

I moved my charger to the kitchen, and that ended up helping more than anything else. It wasn’t really a discipline thing, it was more so just me being lazy. And at 2am, laziness always wins.

I know there are a lot of people who delete the apps that suck them in during the week and reinstall them on weekends, and others who use those lock boxes with timers. A friend told me she leaves her phone in her car at night because that’s the only setup that actually works for her.

Then there are the anchor objects. Think of these as little physical cues that help you move from one part of your day to the next. Maybe it’s a mug you only use in the morning, a candle you light when you’re done for the day, or even a playlist that tells your brain it’s time to focus. After a while, your brain gets the message. You don’t have to talk yourself into anything. The shift just... happens.

Everything that pulls you in should be tucked away on your phone. A few swipes deep, in a folder you never think about. The apps you actually want to use more (meditation, water tracking, whatever supports your goals) can live on the main screen. And please turn off your notifications for anything that isn’t an actual human who needs you. Every ping is someone else deciding what you should pay attention to. Your attention is yours. Protect it.

Start With Just One Thing

There's usually a point in conversations like this where people feel the pull to overhaul everything. New systems! Organization! Finally getting it all together!

I get it. My ADHD brain loves a good reorganization project. There's something almost therapeutic about the possibility of a fresh start.

But sweeping changes rarely hold. They ask too much from a nervous system that's already tired.

What actually creates momentum? It usually starts with one tiny shift. Removing one little friction point, making one thing slightly easier than it was yesterday.

Maybe it's the water bottle you leave on the counter instead of in the cupboard. Maybe it's the phone charger that moves to the kitchen. Maybe it's putting your walking shoes by the door where you'll trip over them if you ignore them long enough.

Small adjustments work because they don't require heroics. You don't have to negotiate with yourself. The path simply becomes easier, and your body follows what feels accessible.

The Truth About Change

Look, I still eat peanut butter from the jar sometimes, and I still occasionally find myself doomscrolling at midnight even though my phone charger is literally in another room and I had to make a conscious choice to go get it.

For a long time I treated those moments like proof that I was failing at being a functional adult. But they’re not that deep, they’re just… moments.

What’s actually moved the needle for me has never been the big overhauls. It’s always been the tiny stuff. Shifting one thing, changing one setup, making one choice a little easier than the other... just small nudges that slowly add up.

Your habits aren’t falling apart because you’re weak or undisciplined or whatever story your brain likes to tell. Most of the time it’s more like trying to jog uphill in flimsy flip‑flops. You can do it, technically, but it’s a ridiculous ask. You can swap the shoes. You can even pick a different route. But you don’t have to bulldoze your whole life to make things work better.

Honestly, the magic is almost always in the next step, not the big overhaul. When the next step isn’t a fight, you’re far more likely to take it.

So before you download another app or make another promise about being better, ask yourself:

What's one small change to my environment that would make the choice I want to make the easiest choice?

Start with that one thing. Your future self won’t care about how perfectly you handled it, but she’ll feel the difference when her morning isn’t quite so chaotic.

And that’s really all you need to aim for.

Disclaimer & A Note from a Caring Practitioner:

My goal is to translate complex wellness concepts into relatable ideas to support your journey. The explanations I provide are simplified models intended for general education and motivation, based on both clinical patterns and established wellness principles. They are not complete medical explanations, diagnoses, or personal advice.

Every person's body is unique. Your individual health needs, experiences, and underlying conditions must be evaluated by your own healthcare provider. This information is educational only and is never a substitute for professional medical consultation, diagnosis, or treatment. Always partner with your personal healthcare provider before making changes to your health regimen.