ADHD and Navigating Transitions: What Downsizing Taught Me About ADHD and Change

I’m moving out of my home to downsize — trading a house that I own for a townhouse in a rental community. On paper, it’s logical. Simpler, more affordable, lower maintenance. But if you have ADHD, you already know that “logical” rarely has the final word. Because this move isn’t just about boxes and bubble wrap.  It’s about how moving impacts many of my executive functions, the invisible scaffolding that holds my daily life together. 

I’m writing this in the middle of it — not from the other side. Because I think there’s something valuable in the mess, and because if you’re an ADHDer like me, navigating your own transition right now, I want you to know: you’re not falling apart. You’re in a process.

Although I coach clients on life and job transitions and know the theories of making transitions, that does not make this transition any easier.  It took many months of thinking about this move. To buy or rent, move to California or stay in New Jersey?  Who would be impacted? How will life change? I’ve had sleepless nights, self-doubt, and anxiety about “why is this so hard!?”

Why Change Hits Differently with ADHD

Before I map my move onto any framework, let me say this: change is expensive when you have ADHD.

Our brains rely heavily on external structure — familiar environments, established routines, the physical cues that tell us what to do next. When that infrastructure disappears, executive function has to work overtime to rebuild it. Working memory gets taxed. Decision fatigue spikes. And underneath all of it, there’s often a grief that feels disproportionate — because to the neurotypical eye, it’s just a move. To the ADHD brain, it’s a reorganization of the self.

Add to that the emotional intensity that often comes with ADHD.  None of this means we can’t navigate change. It means we navigate it differently — and we’re better at it when we understand what’s actually happening. I’d like to share one of the transition models that I learned to help me through this move. 

Woman standing among moving boxes looking out a window while preparing to move, representing ADHD, life transitions, and new beginnings.

The Bridges Transition Model

William Bridges made a distinction that I come back to again and again in my coaching work: change is situational (the new house, the new job, the new diagnosis), while transition is the inner psychological process of adapting to that change. Change can happen overnight. Transition takes time.

What I love about this model — and why I think it’s especially useful for ADHD brains — is that it validates the messy middle. It doesn’t treat the hard part as a malfunction. It names it as a necessary passage.

Endings    The Neutral Zone    New Beginnings

Phase 1: Endings

Before anything new can begin, something has to end. And Bridges is clear: most of us rush past this phase because endings are uncomfortable. But endings need to be honored — especially for ADHD brains, where object permanence already makes loss feel more acute.

What I’m ending: the identity of being a homeowner, the routines built into this house’s physical structure, the neighborhood rhythms I’ve relied on, and the version of myself who created the home we have lived in for the past 10 years. 

ADHD Strategy for Endings: Write or voice-record a brief “goodbye” — to the space, the routines, the identity. It creates closure that the ADHD brain needs explicitly. For me, I say goodbye by meditating for a few minutes in my yard and journaling about the fond memories experienced in this home. 

Phase 2: The Neutral Zone

As I look around and see all these boxes, I realize this is going to happen. There is no turning back now.  What can I expect in this new community?  I’ve given up all of my exercise routines for the last several weeks to keep up with the packing and logistics that need to get done.  I need to exercise for stress relief. Also, my stomach is in a perpetual state of nausea. 

This is the hardest phase, and the one most people don’t have a name for. The old is gone. The new isn’t yet established. You’re in between. The Neutral Zone is disorienting for anyone. For ADHD brains, it’s particularly rough because routine has collapsed, decision fatigue is constant, dopamine dips, and identity feels unstable.

What’s keeping me anchored: one non-negotiable morning routine, an external accountability partner (my husband), reducing decisions wherever possible, and naming the discomfort. Telling myself “this is the Neutral Zone” gives the feeling a container.

ADHD Strategy for the Neutral Zone: Don’t try to build new routines yet. Focus on anchors — 2 or 3 non-negotiable daily practices that travel with you across the transition. Think of them as a portable skeleton for your day.

Phase 3: New Beginnings

Here’s what I envision. Getting back to my regular routines, less expenses for household maintenance, and the freedom to travel. I also have the opportunity to meet new people, try new things, and create a whole new identity. 

New Beginnings don’t arrive with fanfare. They sneak in — a morning when you wake up and the new place feels less foreign. A moment when you notice you know where things are without thinking. A breath that feels, for the first time, like it belongs in the new space.

What I’m building toward: a smaller home that’s simpler to maintain, a community with built-in social proximity, and a fresh setup — one I can design intentionally from the start, rather than inheriting the accumulated chaos of years.

ADHD Strategy for New Beginnings: Don’t wait to “feel ready” to start building your new structure. Set up your environment deliberately and early — before the novelty fades. Anchor the new routine while motivation is still accessible.

An Invitation

If you’re navigating a transition right now — a move, a job change, a relationship ending, a diagnosis, a life that’s reorganizing itself around you — I’d love to hear where you are. Drop it in the comments, or reach out directly.

You don’t have to figure it out alone. And you don’t have to have it figured out before it’s okay.

The Neutral Zone is survivable. I promise.

 

Victoria Roche is an ADHD coach who works with adults navigating life transitions. She writes from her own lived experience and professional practice. Schedule a complimentary get-acquainted session with Victoria to discuss how coaching can help you in the midst of change and creating new structures.

Victoria Roche, MSW, PCC

Victoria Roche, MSW, PCC

ADHD Coach and Life Coach, Executive Skills Coach

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