It’s strange to me how some habits feel like second skin while others slip through our fingers like wet soap. You know what I mean. You promise that you won’t check your phone first thing in the morning. The next day? Boom. You have to scroll through three memes before your feet hit the ground. Does this sound familiar?
Let’s be honest: we’ve all done that dance.
Changing habits doesn’t take a lot of work; in fact, it takes small acts of defiance. Small changes in how the brain works. Before we get into it, let me be clear: this isn’t going to be a neat, numbered list of “hack your life” tips. Because genuine change? It’s untidy, not straight, and human.
The Tyranny of the Known
The brain loves shortcuts because they save time. Habits are like roads that have been walked on a lot in a forest; it takes work to make a new one. Your basal ganglia, which is the part of your brain that controls habits, doesn’t care if the behavior is good or bad. It just feels familiar, which is enough for it to stick around like a tenacious stain on your favorite shirt.
I used to drink Pepsi every time I sat down to write. I told myself that was my creative spark. But the sweetness wasn’t what I really wanted. The ritual made me feel safe. It didn’t take willpower to break that cycle. It was about switching to something else, like a hot cup of cinnamon tea. Strangely satisfying. I don’t miss the bubbles.
By the way, science backs this up. According to research in behavioral neuroscience (see Charles Duhigg’s work or Stanford’s habit loop models), habits are made up of three parts: a cue, a routine, and a reward. The cue and the reward are usually the same, but the routine can change.
My former therapist once told me, “Change the middle, not the edges.”
Breaking the Cycle (or at least loosening it)
This is where things go fuzzy. Removing a habit is not the same as deleting a file. It’s like putting a thick book on top of a scratched vinyl record. Yes, it’s still playing faintly underneath, but you’re choosing to ignore it.
Some useful things I’ve found (by accident, like most discoveries):
Micro-switching: Instead of saying, “I won’t snack at night,” I said, “I’ll chew fennel seeds after 9 p.m.” At first, it seemed stupid, but my body got it. The seeds turned off my mind. Pavlov would have been proud.
Habit stacking means linking a new habit to an old one. Brush your teeth and then think of something you’re thankful for for 30 seconds. I know it sounds crazy. But it’s strangely grounded. And sometimes, being there for only 30 seconds can change more than an hour of forced meditation.
Make it so easy that you can’t say no: Do you want to start journaling? Don’t worry about the expensive leather-bound notepad or the 20-minute nightly rituals. Every morning, write one sentence on a Post-it note. Start with something that is really small, like the size of a toddler.
A Wobbly Story That Still Means a Lot to Me
A few winters back, I got really depressed. Everything was gray. The days. The food. Music even lost its color. I saw that I had stopped making my bed. Not a big deal, right? But it got out of control. No bed made = no structure = no motivation = Netflix until 3 AM.
One morning, I just… tucked the sheet in. That’s all. No heroic acts. No morning video with music that makes you feel good. Just one small gesture of order in the mess. That was the first sign of light.
You see, sometimes rewiring isn’t about breaking an old behavior. It’s about getting back something that was lost. Old good habits also get buried. It’s not always about getting rid of terrible ones.
The Weird Science of Change That Isn’t Perfect
Let’s be clear: change doesn’t happen in a straight line. Your brain isn’t like a computer with folders that are all labeled. It smells odd and has ancient boxes of feelings that people have forgotten about.
You might modify a habit for three days, then go back to it and feel like a fake. That’s normal. Not always normal, but very human. Neuroplasticity, or the brain’s ability to change shape, isn’t a straight line. It bends. It stops. It becomes lazy. Then, out of nowhere, it jumps.
Have you ever heard of Hebbian learning? “Neurons that fire together wire together.” It means that the more times you do something, the stronger that neural path gets. So, that 6 a.m. stretch or that 3-minute walk? Your inner cynic might think otherwise, but it is doing something.
Also, celebrate small wins. To be honest, this one doesn’t get enough credit. You didn’t bite your nails for a whole day? Good job. Give yourself a reward. Dance in the kitchen to celebrate your win. Or just say, “Hey, look at me!” You’re literally teaching your nervous system again.
Where Were We Again?
Yes, yes. Things we do. Or maybe this has to do with who you are? You can’t change old habits without first asking oneself, “Who am I becoming through this?” When you think of yourself as “the kind of person who exercises every day” or “someone who pauses before reacting,” the habit has a place to go.
Who you are affects how you act. Actions strengthen identity. It’s a circle. It’s just like a habit.
But here’s the catch: don’t try to be perfect. That’s a trap. There will be days when you don’t feel like doing anything. Strange days. Days when you don’t do much. Days when you eat cereal for dinner and look at gloom feeds until midnight. But the next morning is a blank slate. All the time.
Last Thoughts from a Messy Mind
There is no magic wand. There is no app. No productivity trick that will perform the hard work for you. It’s you. In the moments in between. Choosing something different in silence. Over and over. At some point, it’s no longer a choice; it’s simply you.
And maybe that’s the most hopeful thing of all.
