Procrastination Is Not What You Think

This morning, I was onboarding a new coaching client. As we discussed her desired outcomes, a familiar topic surfaced:

Procrastination.

Waiting until the last minute.
Putting things off past the point of comfort.
Developing an almost stubborn resistance to do even the things you truly want to do.

Sound familiar?

Procrastination rarely comes alone. It brings guilt. Wasted mental energy. Self-judgment. Shame.

We often explain it away as laziness or poor discipline.

Sometimes it’s tied to perfectionism — If I can’t get it right, why start?

Other times it’s avoidance — a fear of facing reality.

But in my experience, there’s often something deeper beneath it:

Nervous system regulation.

If someone had told me years ago that my procrastination had anything to do with my nervous system, I would have stared at them blankly.

So let me explain.

If you frequently feel anxious, rushed, tense, hyper-vigilant, or like “the other shoe is about to drop,” those are signs of a dysregulated nervous system. It doesn’t feel safe. It’s scanning for danger.

A regulated nervous system, on the other hand, feels calm, focused, steady, and trusting.

Back in my worst procrastination years, I lived in chronic stress.

Imagine having a browser tab open in the background that’s constantly trying to load a massive video file. You can’t see it working — and you may have forgotten it’s even open — but it’s draining your system.

That’s what high-alert living feels like.

And when your system is already overloaded, even small tasks can register as a threat.

Why does that show up as procrastination?

Because your nervous system doesn’t prioritize productivity.
It prioritizes safety.

If planning ahead, finishing early, or staying organized wasn’t familiar in childhood — if chaos or uncertainty was the dominant environment — then calm order can feel foreign.

Even unsafe.

For some people, finishing early creates exposure. Visibility. Vulnerability.
And the nervous system quietly says: Better to delay.

So what can you do?

First: get curious.

Instead of fighting the behavior, ask:

• How might this be protecting me?

• What do I fear would happen if I completed this on time?

• If I weren’t procrastinating, what would open up for me?

These questions shift the focus from self-judgment to understanding.

Deep, stubborn patterns may require trauma-informed support to unwind. This isn’t quick work. It takes time.

It has for me.

This year I’ve found myself doing things that once felt impossible.

I’ve posted daily encouraging messages to my YouTube channel — something that took me seven years to move through because of a deep “fear of being seen.”

For the first time in my life, I’ve developed healthy eating habits paired with consistent exercise. That resistance wasn’t laziness. It was tied to old safety narratives about visibility and worth.

The work isn’t easy.

But living in harmony with yourself is worth it.

When procrastination dissolves at the nervous system level, consistency stops feeling like force.

It starts to feel natural.