What does maintaining a habit actually look like in real life?

Swimming. Walking. Journalling. Reading. Being. Listening to music.

Over the last few years, I’ve made it a priority to build sustainable habits that support my health and wellbeing.

I’ve applied lots of the principles of habit formation, motivation and change psychology that I’ve learnt throughout my career. And, in general, I’d say I’ve been pretty successful at making sustainable changes.

But not by creating perfect routines. I’ve created habits I’ve been able to come back to. Habits that have flexed with the ebbs and flows of a full life, changing routines and multiple competing demands.

And recently, I’ve been reminded just how important that distinction is.

Habits can be hard to break. And hard to establish.

I’ve always been fascinated by the paradox of habits.

The ones we really want to let go of can somehow keep going despite our best efforts to change them. Yet the habits we’d really like to establish can feel wobbly and vulnerable for a surprisingly long time.

I’ve been noticing both recently.

A few weeks ago on instagram, I shared how, during my summer social media break, I had hidden Facebook and Instagram from my phone’s home screen. And yet somehow I still found myself on them. I’d apparently searched for the app and opened it without really registering what I was doing, only to suddenly realise:

 

“Aaaaah… how did that happen?!”

 

It was funny (and slightly alarming) to notice just how automatic that behaviour had become.

But I’ve also been noticing the opposite. 

Some of the habits I’ve deliberately worked hard to establish (swimming, walking, journalling, reading, creating structure around my work) have suddenly felt a little more vulnerable again.

When capacity changes, old habits can sneak in.

I think some of this is about capacity.

There has been a lot of change in our family life recently, and I’ve had less spare capacity while we’ve been adjusting to new routines.

And it feels a bit like when your children sense you’re distracted and realise this is the moment to ask you something, because there’s a reasonable chance you’ll say yes without properly listening.

That’s what my old habits seem to be doing. Sneaking back in through the sides while I’m distracted.

Meanwhile, some of the newer habits seem to be sitting quietly waiting to see whether I’ll notice I’ve forgotten to pick them up.

And I think this is where maintaining habits in real life can look very different from the version we sometimes imagine.

A wobble doesn’t mean you’re back at the beginning

It can be tempting to think that once we’ve established a habit, we’ve cracked it.

We exercise three times a week. We journal every morning. We plan our week on a Sunday. We stop checking our phone constantly.

And then… life happens.

We’re busy. We’re tired. Someone needs us. Our routine changes. Our capacity drops.

And suddenly the thing that had started to feel quite natural doesn’t feel quite so automatic anymore.

That’s the point where it’s very easy to think:

Here we go again. I’ve fallen off the wagon. Why can’t I just stick to things?

But I’m increasingly convinced that the ability to come back is part of the habit too. Sustainable doesn’t have to mean uninterrupted.

Perhaps the noticing is part of the work.

My social media autopilot was a really useful reminder of this.

I could have interpreted reaching for those apps as evidence that I had no willpower or that my attempt to take a break wasn’t working.

Instead, I started noticing it.

Oh. My hand has gone looking for Facebook again.

No judgement. No dramatic declaration that I’d failed. Just awareness.

And that little moment of noticing created an opportunity to choose what I did next.

I think the same applies to the habits we want to keep.

We can notice:

• I’ve stopped doing that thing that helps me.
• I’ve drifted away from this.
• I’m reaching for this other thing more often.

And rather than turning that observation into criticism, we can get curious about it.

• What’s changed?
• What’s making this harder at the moment?
• What capacity do I actually have?
• What’s one small way I could begin to reconnect with this?

Maybe this is what sustainable really looks like

I don’t want to only share the “Look! I made a change and now everything is brilliant!” version of wellbeing. Because that’s rarely how change works in real life. Even when we know what supports us. Even when we’ve experienced the benefits. Even when we understand some of the psychology behind behaviour change.

Life still happens. Our capacity changes. And our habits wobble.

Perhaps sustainable wellbeing isn’t about creating a routine that never gets interrupted.

Maybe it’s about knowing what supports you, noticing when you’ve drifted away from it, and trusting that you can find your way back.

Again and again.

Without making the wobble mean you’ve failed.

And if you’re finding it difficult to work out what supports you now, or you know what helps but are struggling to make space for it amongst everything else, this is something we can explore together in coaching.

Sometimes having a little space to step out of the day-to-day, understand what’s getting in the way and work out what feels realistic for you can help.

Get in touch if you’d like to have a chat about whether coaching might be helpful.