Simple solutions to fit Real Life

What do we want?

Easy. Simple. Effortless.

We want a lifestyle that feels light. We want to be “low maintenance.” We want to be the person who doesn’t make a fuss, who goes with the flow, who doesn’t ask for special treatment.

Low maintenance sounds admirable.

But what does it actually mean?

If I picture “low effort” living, it looks like this: laundry piled in baskets because folding takes time. Fast food because cooking feels like too much. Ordering whatever’s on the menu without asking questions because you don’t want to be “that person.”

It does make life easier for the people around you.

But is it easier for you?

My Juice Era

In 8th grade, I decided I was done drinking soda.

Not because I was enlightened. Mostly because I was contrarian. If everyone else was drinking soda at lunch, I wanted juice. But not just any juice — it had to be at least 80% actual fruit juice. At restaurants, I’d (OMG) ask the waitress whether that mango-strawberry refresher was mostly juice or mostly syrup.

My parents cringed. I’m sure the waitstaff did too.

But here’s what’s funny: my “high maintenance” juice requests saved me maintenance elsewhere. Although I was still taking a lot of sugar in juice, I was getting nutrients and avoiding dangerous additives.

I eventually moved from juice to water (and yes, now coffee and the occasional beer). I’m better able to manage my weight, and a more surprising outcome, my dentist consistently comments on how healthy my teeth are. No erosion from decades of soda. No chronic damage from sweetened drinks.

The extra effort back then made life easier later.

Present-Day “High Maintenance”

Fast forward to today, and my requests have evolved.

Salad dressing on the side and additions that aren’t on the menu (helloooo olive oil!)

Fewer syrup pumps in my coffee at Starbucks.

Less processed ingredients when possible.

Always hold the meat, or “can you put that on the side?” for Mark to add to his meal.

My family expects it. They sigh. Mark adds a little extra to the tip for “pain and suffering.”

But here’s what I know:

Any amount of maintenance now saves me far more maintenance later.

Small, mindful choices today protect my energy, my joints, my hormones, my heart — and my mood — in the future.

The Lie of “Low Maintenance”

Here’s the uncomfortable truth:

Low maintenance now often equals high maintenance later.

Skipping movement feels easier today — until your joints hurt.

Ignoring nutrition feels easier today — until your energy crashes.

Choosing convenience every time feels easier today — until survival mode becomes your baseline.

Effort deferred doesn’t disappear. It compounds.

The Tug You Already Feel

You know that little internal tug?

“I should fold the laundry.”

“I should prep lunch for tomorrow.”

“I should walk the dogs.”

Instead, you watch one more episode of Stranger Things.

(To be fair, the last season was very binge-worthy.)

That tug isn’t guilt. It’s wisdom.

It’s the quiet voice that wants your future to feel easier.

So against everything working to convince you to snuggle into your TV binge sesh, do the things that voice is trying to advise you on. That little voice is right. The more you practice listening to it, the more you’ll trust it and the easier it will become.

What If “High Maintenance” Is Actually Self-Respect?

Being “high maintenance” doesn’t mean dramatic or difficult.

It means:

• Asking for dressing on the side.
  
• Going for the walk.
  
• Prepping the lunch.
  
• Choosing water.
  
• Saying no when you need to.
  

It means choosing short-term effort for long-term ease.

And here’s the bigger picture:

Survival mode thrives on convenience and autopilot.

Vitality requires intention.

So maybe the goal isn’t to be low maintenance.

Maybe the goal is to be wisely maintained.

Trust the little voice.

It’s trying to protect your future.