Growing up, I used to love bowling. Now, mind you, I have never been that good at it, but it always brought me joy. I always had long nails, and I would usually break one per bowling adventure, but the trash-talking made the experience worth it, and I would have a great story to tell later. This past October, King and I decided to go bowling for our anniversary. I am a big fan of us doing something unconventional for date nights because ”basic” is just not in our DNA. As I normally would, I trash-talked so much in the days and minutes leading up to our match. I declared myself the winner and told him that I would want my victory kisses post-haste. I was so excited to whoop his butt in bowling! However, the unforeseen occurred. I was weeks into my medication for ADHD, but this was my first competitive activity. I did not realize that the medication, which was designed to help me focus, would work so well that I would then struggle with something like bowling. Basically, my mind was concentrating so intently on my form that it was overriding the other parts of me that just wanted to play and have fun. Apparently, those were the parts of me that would “luck out “ and perform well at bowling in the past. After seeing my horrendous score, I begged King to let me put up the bumpers as though I were a child so that my ball would stand a chance at striking pins. I had surmised that if my ball would just stop going into the gutter, it would at least get a few pins, and that would help my score. Although initially reluctant, King did eventually give in, and my improvement was notable. What I learned that day (and was reminded of last month) is that sometimes the complete freedom that we desire or have is not as great for us as we think… or, as it may be, for others. For some of us in the world, we need structures in place to help guide us as we travel through this thing called life; we need bumpers and boundaries.

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Like many teenagers, I could not wait to be an adult and have autonomy over my life. I grew up in a Jamaican household, and “freedom” was not a word that dwelt in that environment. I so desperately wanted to be in control of my life, fully believing that I would make better decisions for myself than anyone else could. Yet, what they don’t tell you (and can only be taught in the school of Hardknocks) is that freedom and independence come with their own EXPENSIVE costs, and if you really want them, you must be willing to give up something in return. I am almost ashamed to admit that, at almost 40 years old, I just realized that my ADHD caused me to think that structure and guidelines were tools of oppression, designed to stifle my energy, growth, and creativity. Turns out, they were guardrails that helped prevent me from spiraling into tailspins that would destroy and derail me in almost irreversible ways.

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You may be wondering what brought me to this place. Well, last month, during the first week of winter break, I decided to eat whatever I wanted to eat. It was a holiday week, and my students had lovingly gifted me with cookies that I just had to eat, right?! For the first seven days, I found myself eating way more sweets in a day than I had consumed in the previous month altogether, staying up later than I should, getting little to no sleep, and not walking around as often as I did during the school week. I was on a break, and I felt like I needed- no, DESERVED- a break from everything that had me bound before. By the time the first day of Kwanzaa arrived, the scale had indicated that I was three pounds heavier than I was the week prior. While I had anticipated some gain, the three-pound gain was alarming to me, and I immediately learned/recalled/understood that I am someone who benefits greatly from routine and structure. Once my routine is disrupted, my mind goes haywire and starts taking advantage of liberties that were not previously available. My ADHD medication is designed to help me focus and reduce impulsivity, but if there is no work or routine to focus on, I think my mind focuses on the void of activity and goes overboard with its love of freedom. Simply put, I don’t know if my medication is as effective if I don’t have tasks to complete in a given day. Or, it is effective, and I just have to stop finding ways to circumvent its effectiveness.

Stepping on that scale humbled the rebellion right out of me. I instantly realized that, unlike my neurotypical friends, I need to have structure for me to find any type of success… even in my off time. And, let’s be frank, that sucks. The lack of a routine creates inconsistency within me that leads to regression within whichever system/activity I am trying to navigate. In hindsight, I’ve seen this many times in recent years, but I must have just disregarded each instance. Now (likely thanks to the medication), I am acknowledging that I benefit from a constant framework so that I know the lane in which I may dwell.

I’m sure that 18-year-old Michelle is looking at me now with a disappointed glare. The girl who yearned for independence and the lack of structure is bowing her head in disgrace with the acceptance of almost-40-year-old Michelle’s need for life to be planned out, routine, and somewhat predictable. Yes, that is extremely boring and somewhat monotonous, but apparently, I thrive within that realm. Go figure!

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Hmm… at some later point, I would love to talk about how structure benefits us from a religious standpoint, but today I just want to say this: just as bumpers helped improve my bowling game, clearly defined bumpers and boundaries have helped me better navigate life and thrive in the lane that God has purposed for me today.

Be blessed.