
Okay, I’m going to talk to a very specific person right now and that’s The Neurodivergent Business Owner’s.
You’re running your own business. You’re doing it while also managing a brain that works a little differently from the one most business advice seems to be written for. The executive function challenges are real. The inconsistent energy is real. The “I was on top of everything last week and this week I cannot open my laptop” cycle is real.
And somewhere in the middle of all of that, you are supposed to maintain a website.
This post is for you. Because I am also you. And because I have learned some things — through experience, through building websites for people like us, and through being an autistic developer who has strong opinions about making things actually usable — that might make this less of a thing that lives on your guilt list.
The problem with most website advice
Most website advice is written for someone with consistent, predictable bandwidth. Update your blog weekly. Post new content regularly. Review your analytics every month. Keep your plugins updated. Refresh your portfolio.
That’s great advice in theory. In practice, if you’re neurodivergent, “regularly” and “consistently” are the two words most likely to make you laugh in a hollow, joyless way.
Not because you don’t care. Not because you’re not capable. But because your bandwidth is not a steady stream — it’s a variable one. Some weeks you have everything. Some weeks you have nothing and the website maintenance task sitting on your to-do list transforms from “a thing to do” to “a looming symbol of all my failures as a person and a business owner.”
That’s not a productivity problem. That’s a nervous system operating the way neurodivergent nervous systems operate.
The answer isn’t to try harder at being consistent. The answer is to build systems — including your website — that work with the way you actually function rather than against it.
Build for the low-energy version of yourself
This is the framing I use with every neurodivergent client I work with, and I find it the most useful lens for website design decisions.
When things are good — when you’re in a flow state, when you have energy, when everything is clicking — you can figure almost anything out. You don’t need the system to be perfectly simple during the good weeks.
You need it to be survivable during the hard ones.
That means: content management that doesn’t require you to remember where anything is or how anything works. Navigation that’s so logical even future-you who hasn’t touched the site in six months can orient without reading a manual. A posting or updating process that has as few steps as possible between “I have a thing to say” and “it is published.”
WordPress, when it’s set up well, can be this. When it’s set up poorly — a pile of plugins conflicting with each other, a theme that fights you, a backend that looks like the cockpit of a spacecraft — it absolutely is not this. Setup matters enormously.
The content problem
Here is something I have noticed: neurodivergent business owners often have the most interesting things to say and the hardest time getting the saying of it to happen in the scheduled, formatted, consistent way that blog content strategies require.
The thoughts happen. They’re good thoughts! They happen in the car. At 1am. In the shower. In the middle of a completely unrelated task. They do not happen on Tuesday mornings when you sat down specifically to write a blog post.
A few things that help:
Voice memos as drafting tools. Talk the idea out, even messily, and then clean it up later. The friction of a blank document is real. The friction of rambling into your phone’s voice memo app is much lower.
Lower the bar for “a piece of content.” Your full blog post is valuable. But so is a short honest thought, a resource you found helpful, a thing you wish your clients knew. These don’t all have to be 1,500-word articles.
Batch in the good weeks. When the energy is there and the ideas are flowing, create more than you need right now. Schedule it. Future-you will be relieved.
The maintenance problem
Plugin updates. Security patches. Broken links. The image that randomly stopped displaying. The contact form that mysteriously stopped sending.
These are normal parts of website ownership. They are also, when you’re neurodivergent and already at bandwidth, the exact kind of task that is easy to avoid until it becomes a crisis.
Options for managing this reality: Work with a web developer who handles maintenance proactively and is reachable when things break — not a support ticket queue, a human. Having someone you can text “hey something’s broken” to is worth more than most people realize until they need it.
Or: set up your plugins to auto-update where safe to do so, use a simple reliable theme rather than a complex one with a lot of moving parts, and check in on the thing quarterly rather than pretending you’ll do it monthly and then feeling bad when you don’t.
The thing I most want you to hear
Your website does not have to be perfect. It does not have to be updated constantly, it does not have to have a thriving blog that posts weekly. It needs to do its job — communicate what you do, establish that you’re real and trustworthy, and make it easy for the right people to reach you.
A website that does that well and hasn’t been touched in two months is better than a website that’s technically up to date but confusing, slow, or inaccessible.
If you need someone who understands neurodivergence — not just as a concept but as a lived daily reality — to help you build something that actually works for your brain and your business: that’s me. That’s specifically what I’m describing when I say I’m flexible and I understand neurodiversity and the toll of mental load.
We can build something that doesn’t require the high-energy version of you to keep it alive.
