For years I’ve loved lists. I love the clarity of writing things down. I love the little dopamine hit of crossing something off. I love knowing my brain doesn’t have to hold everything at once. What I don’t love—and what I’ve finally admitted to myself—is the quiet stress that has crept in around planners. Somewhere along the way, planning stopped being a support system and started feeling like another performance. Another thing to get “right.” So this year, I’m giving myself permission to do things differently. Softer. Easier. Less aesthetic and more functional.
The Big Three I’m Giving Up in 2026
1. Not Using Multiple Planners “Just Because”
I’ve tried the system where everything has its own home: a planner for work, one for family, one for goals, one for habits, one for “just in case.” And while that looks organized in theory, in practice it meant I was constantly flipping, migrating, rewriting, and second-guessing myself.
This year, I’m keeping it simple:
- Emily Ley Simplified Planner for home, family, exercise and nutrition tracking, and housekeeping
- HB90 planner for work
That’s it. No extra notebooks “for later.” No backup planners waiting in the wings. If something belongs to my life, it goes in one of those two places. Fewer tools means fewer decisions. And fewer places for things to hide and stress me out.
2. Not Feeling Guilty for Unfinished To-Do Lists
This might be the biggest shift. To-do lists are not moral documents. They are memory aids. They exist so I don’t forget things, not to prove that I was productive enough to deserve rest. This year, I’m keeping one master list. Everything goes on it so my brain can relax. Then, each day, I pull from that list without pressure to “finish” it.
Things will be crossed off:
- Out of order
- Messily
- Sometimes all at once
- Sometimes not at all
And that’s okay. I’m also using an ugly, cheap ($1) legal pad on purpose. No pretty paper. No precious layout. When the paper isn’t beautiful, my perfectionism doesn’t activate. My OCD doesn’t whisper that I’ve ruined something by writing the “wrong” thing first. The list works for me, not the other way around.
3. Not Turning Planning Into a Craft Project
I think planner creativity is wonderful. Stickers, stamps, washi tape, color-coding. It’s all genuinely lovely. But for me? It’s also a trap. What starts as “I’ll make this a little fun” quickly turns into:
- Which pen works best with this sticker?
- Should this be blue or green?
- Did I leave enough space?
- Is this page already ruined?
Suddenly, the act of planning takes longer than the thing I was planning to do. So this year, I’m not chasing aesthetic productivity. I’m not making executive decisions about washi tape before coffee. I’m not letting the tools become the task. If a pen writes, I’ll use it. If a list is legible, it’s good enough. If the system supports my life instead of complicating it, it’s working.
Why am I doing this?
At the heart of all this is one simple goal: less friction. Fewer daily decisions that don’t actually matter. Less guilt over systems that were never meant to be perfect. More grace for being human in a full, busy life. Lists are still my friend. Planners still have a place. But this year, I’m choosing function over performance and giving myself permission to fail, adapt, and keep going anyway even it things are not beautiful, aesthetic, or covered in my favorite washi tape.
