Creating a Morning Routine That Doesn’t Feel Like a Punishment

Morning routines for the neurospicy soul

Ok, ok. This is not the first article I’ve written about mornings. In fact, if you were to scroll back far enough in the archives, you’d find a piece where I was pretending to be the kind of person who starts their day with lemon water and a gratitude journal. I wrote that while wearing a linen shirt and pretending I was someone who didn’t just bail on another brunch date. That was cute of me.

But let’s be honest. Life now? She’s a bit messier. And I’m leaning into it. The chaos goblin within has risen and she demands a different kind of structure. A structure that feels kind. That doesn’t involve punishing myself for not meditating perfectly or getting in 10,000 steps before sunrise. And definitely not one that requires waking up before the birds have finished their night shift.

So we’re doing it again. But this time for real. For the neurodivergent, tea-sipping, soft-pyjama-wearing crew who want a morning that feels like a warm hug and not a military drill. You don’t need a 12-step programme. You just need a few anchors that help you start the day without screaming.

What it means to be a morning person (according to me)

Here’s the thing: I am a morning person. But that doesn’t mean I’m greeting the sunrise with a juice cleanse and a 5km jog. It means that once I’m up, I’m up. Like, flinging open windows, chucking laundry in the machine, making my bed with unnecessary flair, and generally just pottering about like someone who has had too much caffeine before actually having caffeine.

This only works because I listen to my body. If I’m not ready to wake up, I don’t. But the moment I do feel awake? I move. That’s key for me. No snooze button. No doom scrolling. Just straight into the vibe. Because the longer I lie there, the more my brain convinces me that today is not the day.

Also, Lulu (my cat and personal overlord) does not care for slow starts. He requires breakfast, affection, and an audience for his morning chaos. So I’m usually on the clock. But even if you don’t have a cat demanding your attention, finding a rhythm that doesn’t involve groaning into your pillow is worth its weight in gold.

The gentle structure of my goblin mornings

Now that I’ve let go of the idea that mornings need to be polished and perfect, I’ve built a loose little structure that works. It’s more about gentle anchors than rigid routines. Think vibes, not checklists. My mornings have an order, but not a schedule. And that makes all the difference.

First anchor? Tea. Always tea. I pad into the kitchen like a wealthy widow in a satin robe and flick on the kettle. Usually green tea, sometimes matcha, never oat milk because I refuse to die at the hands of a trend. While the kettle boils, I do something small and productive: put away the dishes, fold the throw rug, water a plant, tell Lulu he’s handsome. Something that gives me a sense of accomplishment without requiring too much brain.

Then it’s skin care. My chaos may reign in every other area of my life, but my face shall glow. I wash, I serum, I slather, I spritz. It’s meditative. It’s grounding. And it reminds me that I’m a person, not just a brain floating in a flesh-jar. If I’ve slept poorly or my face is puffy, I give myself extra time. No shame. Just more mist.

Avoiding the routine guilt spiral

One of the worst things about typical morning routines is how they become another way to fail. Didn’t journal? You’re lazy. Didn’t exercise? You lack discipline. Ate toast instead of smoothie? You clearly don’t care about your health. It’s exhausting. And frankly, unhelpful.

So here’s the deal: mornings don’t have to be productive to be good. You can have a successful morning and still eat cold leftovers while watching a TikTok of raccoons stealing sandwiches. The only measure of a good morning is whether you feel even slightly more human at the end of it.

Some mornings, I sit on the floor with Lulu and stare into space. Other mornings, I write for two hours straight while my tea goes cold beside me. Both are valid. Both are mine. And neither require me to have my life together in a Insta-worthy way.

Building your own (very soft) system

If you want to build a morning routine that feels good, start with what already feels good. Do you love the smell of toast? Make that your anchor. Do you feel better after brushing your hair? Add that in. Start tiny, start silly, start soft.

And don’t be afraid to make your mornings weird. You want to dance to Eurovision songs while brushing your teeth? Do it. You want to eat olives and read old fanfiction? Absolutely. Your routine doesn’t need to impress anyone. It just needs to make you feel like you can face the day without crying.

Mine includes telling Lulu about my dreams, checking the weather three times because I wasn’t paying attention the first two times, and giving myself a little compliment while moisturising. I keep it light. I keep it gentle. And I stay flexible. Because sometimes, your body says no. And that’s ok too.

When mornings feel hard (because they will)

There will be days where even the easiest routine feels like too much. You’ll wake up and the air feels heavy, your body feels slow, and the idea of movement is laughable. These are the days where your only job is to not be mean to yourself.

Maybe you skip the skincare. Maybe the tea doesn’t happen until 11am. Maybe you just lie on the floor and let Lulu stand on your chest like some kind of judgemental furry gargoyle. It’s fine. You’re fine. You’re still worthy of soft starts and kindness.

I keep a stash of emergency mornings for days like that. Lactose-free cheese stringers. Comfy clothes at the ready. A playlist that gently bullies me into moving. I let myself have a slow launch. No pressure to thrive. Just survive with style.

Every morning I ask, ‘Is this the day I become That Girl?’ The answer is always no, but I like the drama.

Final thoughts from the satin-robed chaos goblin

Creating a morning routine isn’t about becoming the person you think you should be. It’s about supporting the person you already are. The version of you that is trying their best, that needs a cup of tea before words, that doesn’t always want to be perceived before 10am.

Be kind to that person. Give them soft lighting, soft clothes, and a soft start to the day. You don’t need to hustle. You don’t need to change everything. You just need a routine that doesn’t punish you for being a bit tired, a bit chaotic, and a lot human.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go tell Lulu that he’s the most beautiful boy in the world while I drink my lukewarm tea and pretend I didn’t just trip over a laundry basket. We’re all just doing our best out here.

You Are Not Entitled to an Answer – Chaos, Crumbs and Clarity

In this episode of Chaos, Crumbs and Clarity, we're unpacking why you are not entitled to an answer. Specifically, we're talking about the strange little corner of modern dating where a few days of app chat somehow becomes an emotional contract, and suddenly a man you've never met believes your silence requires a formal explanation, a debrief, and possibly a follow-up meeting with management.I have two stories for you. One man who talked almost exclusively about himself, ignored the fact that I was sick, and then followed up a week later asking whether I'd reconsidered his "request for clarification". And another who became offended because I didn't respond to his selfie within two hours while I was lying in a dark room with a migraine. Sir. Please be serious.Because here's the thing. Before you've met someone, you do not owe them unlimited access to your time, attention, reassurance, or emotional labour. You don't have to justify why the vibes changed. You don't need a reason they'll consider reasonable. You are allowed to disengage because something felt off, because you changed your mind, because you met someone else, or because you're in your luteal phase and frankly the entire world can wait.Today we're talking about the difference between ghosting and simply disengaging, why demanding closure can become a boundary violation, the exhausting expectation that women should manage men's feelings for them, and why you do not need to JADE, justify, argue, defend, or explain, when you've already decided you're done. Let's get into it.Key Takeaways:A few days of chatting does not create a debt. Matching on an app, exchanging messages, or talking on the phone does not give someone a claim on your attention. Until you've actually built a connection, you are allowed to walk away without submitting supporting documentation.Closure is not something another person can demand from you. Asking once is one thing. Continuing to push after someone has clearly disengaged is not persistence or emotional maturity. It's refusing to accept the answer you've already been given.You do not need to JADE. You don't have to justify, argue, defend, or explain why you're no longer interested. The reason doesn't have to be good enough for him. It just has to be yours.Pre-date silence and post-date silence are not the same thing. If you've never met, disengaging is part of app dating. Once you've shared an actual date or developed a genuine connection, a simple goodbye becomes basic courtesy. Nobody needs a dissertation, but acknowledging another human being matters.Sometimes they don't miss you. They miss the audience. Someone can seem interested while actually being interested in having your attention. Real connection requires curiosity about you. If the only time they become deeply engaged is when you're leaving, pay attention to that.For more visit ⁠BryJaimea.com⁠ or follow over on IG ⁠@BryJaimea

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