When Plans Derail: My Struggles with Flexibility
Predictability and structure aren’t just preferences—they’re essential for me when navigating daily life. Precise plans, schedules, and agreed-upon tasks give me a sense of control, stability, and fairness. But when other people deviate from the plan—prioritising social chatter over getting things done—it’s not just a minor irritation. For me, it can feel deeply frustrating and sometimes invalidating.
The Comfort of Predictability
I rely on plans as a kind of lifeline. When there’s a clear schedule, I can focus my energy, mentally prepare for the tasks ahead, and feel secure knowing what’s expected. A plan represents a shared agreement, a commitment to how we’re going to spend our time. When that plan goes awry—especially for what feels like avoidable reasons—it can feel like the rug has been pulled out from under me.
Picture this: I come to a team meeting, ready to tackle the agenda. I’ve mentally rehearsed what’s coming, planned how I’ll contribute, and geared up to work through each item. But instead of diving in, the meeting drifts into casual conversation. People start talking about weekend plans, favourite TV shows, or inside jokes. What seems like harmless bonding to others leaves me feeling invisible and sidelined.
For me, those moments aren’t just unproductive—they’re stressful. It’s not simply about the tasks that aren’t getting done; it’s about the unspoken message that the plan doesn’t matter. While I understand that my colleagues might see these conversations as relationship-building, to me, they often feel like obstacles to getting the work done and sticking to what was agreed upon.
The Emotional Toll
These moments don’t just derail my focus; they often send me spiralling into self-doubt:
* Am I being too rigid?
* Why doesn’t anyone else seem frustrated by this?
* Is it okay for me to feel this way?
This inner dialogue can leave me feeling isolated. It’s hard not to feel like the odd one out, the only person in the room who values the plan over the banter. These experiences can amplify challenges with social inclusion and make me question whether my needs are valid
For Colleagues:
* Respect structure: Understand that for some of us, plans aren’t just a suggestion—they’re vital for our success.
* Balance social time: If bonding is important, carve out specific moments for it, like starting or ending the meeting with a casual chat.
* Be inclusive: If someone like me tries to steer the group back on track, acknowledge it positively instead of brushing it off.
Changing the Narrative
Flexibility is often celebrated, but it’s worth remembering that not everyone thrives in a “go with the flow” environment. I bring unique strengths to the table—an eye for detail, a commitment to fairness, and a focus on getting things done. Sticking to the plan isn’t about being rigid for me; it’s about respect—for time, effort, and the agreements we’ve made.
When workplaces and learning environments foster mutual understanding, they create spaces where everyone, neurodivergent or not, can feel valued and heard. True inclusivity doesn’t just accommodate differences—it recognises and celebrates them. And for people like me, that can make all the difference.