The Disorganized Life

By Lyubov Abrams

For years, I struggled to keep track of appointments and remember important dates—even birthdays slipped through the cracks. I couldn’t keep a single kitchen shelf organized. Everything became a pile of miscellaneous items with no real home—just tucked away, out of sight and out of mind.

That was my system: out of sight, out of mind.

I told myself for a long time that a clean, tidy house wasn’t the goal. Happiness was. But if I’m being honest, I often felt anxious and uncomfortable in the mess. I avoided inviting people over. I didn’t want anyone riding in my car. I was afraid they’d discover the “real” me—a disorganized, overwhelmed mess.

My finances looked the same. I worried constantly about overspending, but I had no real sense of what was coming in or going out. Every month felt like a guessing game—hoping there would be enough to cover expenses, maybe even save a little. But saving? That was more of an idea than a reality.

Then one day, sitting in the middle of my chaos, something clicked.

All the stories I’d been telling myself—that organization didn’t matter, that I didn’t need systems—weren’t really true. They were just a cover for something deeper: I didn’t know where to start. I was overwhelmed. I didn’t understand how other people made it look so easy—putting things away, maintaining systems, actually using the tools they invested in.

I wanted more. I wanted to stop feeling like a fraud—like I was failing at something everyone else had figured out. I wanted to feel normal.

So I made a different decision.

Not to be perfect—but to begin.

I stopped being so hard on myself. I let go of the idea that I had to fix everything at once. Instead, I focused on starting small.

I downloaded an app to track my finances. For the first time, I could clearly see what was coming in and going out—and that alone brought relief.

I hired a cleaner, not just for the house, but for accountability. It forced me to prioritize my space.

I signed up for a car wash membership and built a habit: weekly cleans, quick daily resets to clear out the chaos my kids left behind.

I worked with a nutritionist who showed me simple, realistic ways to prepare meals my family would actually eat.

Little by little, things started to shift.

I began making my bed every day. Running one load of laundry daily. Taking small, consistent actions to improve the areas of my life that had once felt impossible.

And the biggest shift wasn’t external—it was internal.

I stopped asking, “Why am I like this?” And started asking, “What can I do to make this easier?”

Instead of beating myself up, I focused on solutions. On systems. On support.

Yes, I’m neurodivergent. But at some point, the “why” mattered less than the “how.”

How can I build a life that works for me?

When I shifted my focus, everything started to feel lighter. More manageable. More possible.

And that transformation? I knew I couldn’t keep it to myself.

Because I’m not the only one who feels this way.

That’s why I created Love and Focus Coaching—to help busy professionals who feel overwhelmed, scattered, and stuck in cycles of blame and shame.

You don’t need perfection. You need systems that work.

And a starting point.