Writing Prompt #5: The Things You Leave Unfinished
Why it's (sometimes) OK to suck at finishing things
I like watching people do home renovations on YouTube. Especially when they’re reviving old, dilapidated homes, restoring them to their former glory. I get a warm feeling basking in their accomplishment when everything’s finished.
And I feel envy. Because every project I watch my YouTube faves complete is a reminder that I suck at finishing things.
I’ve written and rewritten the first ten chapters of my supposed novel-in-progress so many times that I’ve cranked out more words than War and Peace contains, and yet it’s still not finished.
Two years ago, I bought yarn to crochet the hot new pattern—the hexicardigan—for my daughter. And the half-finished cardi has been hanging out in a bag in my closet for one year and 11 months since. (But I did recently write my first pattern and crank out a bunch of Norwegian protest hats for my son and his friends. So, there’s that!)
I have a box full of embroidery supplies because for a while, I was sure embroidery was going to be my next favorite hobby. Now that box is gathering dust in a corner of my living room because it turns out stabbing fabric repeatedly isn’t as fun as I thought it would be.
I start seeds enthusiastically every winter in preparation for spring planting, and then I end up giving half of them away to friends because I never found the motivation to get them all in the ground and “they’re just going to die anyway.”
I call it “ADHD audacity” when I enthusiastically start some new project or try learning some new craft. Starting things is fun!
Finishing them? Drudgery for drudgery’s sake.
And I get so angry with myself for this. Because if I could just press on through the “messy middle,” I’d get the lovely dopamine hit of actually completing something.
My rational brain says, “Well, you have ADHD, and neurodivergent brains crave novelty, so it’s understandable that you’d run out of steam once the novelty-fueled dopamine wears off, right?”
But my self-critical brain says:
You suck! You have zero follow-through! What is wrong with you?
But here’s the thing: Sometimes we just lose momentum, don’t we? Even people without ADHD, people whose brains aren’t wired to need constant stimulation, leave things unfinished. Energy dwindles. Life intervenes. Passion fades.
And maybe that’s OK. Unless not finishing has a cost (whether monetary or emotional), maybe it’s OK to set something aside and say, “Well, I’ve lost interest.” And instead of berating ourselves for the things we don’t complete, what if we celebrated ourselves for trying at all, and for recognizing the point where that activity no longer filled our mental cup?
Or maybe we can think of the cost of our unfinished projects as a sort of “tuition” for learning things about life and about ourselves.
Buying yarn was the price of a month’s worth of excitement and learning a new pattern.
The embroidery supplies (fortunately quite affordable, should you decide stabbing things is your destiny), were the cost of exploring a hobby and finding out it wasn’t for me.
Maybe the cost of gathering supplies and spending some energy isn’t as high as we think. We spend money on other fleeting things like live music, shows, movies, travel, and we don’t kick ourselves for not having produced anything at the end of those experiences; we simply enjoy the enrichment they bring to our lives.
The idea that you have to "finish what you started" has merits. If you’re coaching a youth sports team, abandoning that when the novelty wears off has real consequences. Collaborating on a work or school project? You don’t want to be the person who lets everyone else pick up your slack. Responding to an important email, paying that bill on time, getting that oil change to keep your car running smoothly—all essential things were follow-through equals success.
I like to think of it this way:
Some projects are vampires. They drain your energy and provide no joy in return. There’s also no real consequence if they’re left undone. So, when that vampire project starts sucking your energy, it’s not only OK but wise to quit.
Some projects are compost piles. (Hear me out!) They’re earthy, messy, slow. But they’re literally helping you build the soil of your future self and reveal who you want to be.
So, if you’re currently sitting in a room surrounded by the ghosts of hobbies past, give yourself a break. You didn't fail, you simply finished the portion of the experience that was for you. You paid the tuition, you gathered the stories, and you realized that your energy was better spent elsewhere. It’s time to stop looking at those unfinished piles as a list of your flaws and start seeing them for what they really are: a collection of times you were brave enough to try something new.
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