When To-Do Lists Attack: Why They Sometimes Hurt More Than Help (and What to Do Instead)
Most of us have been told at some point that the secret to getting our lives together is writing a to-do list. It sounds so simple: jot everything down, tick things off, and feel in control. And yes, for many people, lists do bring relief. They can quiet the mental clutter, give us a sense of structure, and create that satisfying little rush when we cross something out.
But there’s a darker side too, one that I see often in my therapy room. To-do lists can sometimes do more harm than good. Instead of helping us feel organised, they can feed our inner critic, fuel perfectionism, and leave us feeling like failures at the end of the day.
Take one of my clients, let’s call her Sarah. She was a perfectionist through and through. Every day, she would write a list that looked more like a full-blown project plan than a simple reminder system. Fifteen, twenty tasks. Everything from finishing a big work report to booking her car in for a service to reorganising her entire pantry. At the end of the day, even though she’d worked nonstop, half the list was untouched. Rather than celebrating what she did get through, she told me she’d fall into bed berating herself: “I never do enough. I’m hopeless.” Her list had turned into evidence for her inner critic, rather than a tool to support her.
This happens because of how our brains work. Psychologists have found that simply writing down tasks gives us a sense of relief—it’s called the Zeigarnik effect. Our minds like closure, and when we put tasks on paper, our brain can relax a little because it’s not holding onto them so tightly. But if the list becomes unrealistic, it flips. Instead of calming us, it can increase stress and shame.
Another client, let’s call himTom, avoided his to-do list altogether. For him, writing something down felt like signing a contract. “If I write it, I have to do it—and I’m terrified I’ll mess it up,” he told me. He’d sit paralysed at his desk, knowing there were things he needed to do but unable to start. For people like Tom, the list fuels fear of failure rather than motivation. We might recognise this as ‘task paralysis’ or ‘procrastination’.
And then there’s the problem of what I call “impossible goals.” I once worked with a young woman, Lily, whose list would say things like “finish uni assignment” or “organise flat.” Sounds harmless, right? Except “finish uni assignment” really meant “read six articles, make notes, create an outline, write 2000 words, and edit.” Her brain saw that one item and froze. It wasn’t laziness—it was overwhelm. When we don’t break tasks down, our lists become mountains we can’t climb, and it makes sense that we avoid them.
The saddest part is that the list itself is never the problem. It’s the way we use it. Done thoughtfully, lists can be freeing. Done harshly, they can become weapons against ourselves. On a similar level I observed this in my own life. Every November I’d buy a beautiful new diary, convinced this would be the year I finally got organised. I’d spend hours choosing the perfect cover, layout, even the perfect pen. The first page would be filled in with flawless handwriting, and maybe the first week too. But by February, the empty pages felt like proof of failure. Instead of inspiring me, the diary became a weapon—each blank space a reminder of what I hadn’t achieved.
It took me years to realise diaries simply don’t work for me. And that’s okay. The problem wasn’t me—it was the tool. Sometimes our “systems of order” only give our inner critic more ammunition. Letting go of the diary was really about letting go of the shame it carried with it.
So how do we make to-do lists work for us rather than against us?
First, it helps to redefine the point of the list. Sometimes the real benefit comes not from looking at the list later, but from the act of writing it. Externalising all those swirling thoughts is soothing. It gives our brain space to breathe. I sometimes suggest to clients: try writing the list and then, if you want, put it aside. You don’t even need to look at it again. The exercise of clearing your head might be all you need.
Second, if you are going to use your list as a daily guide, keep it short and gentle. Three to five tasks is plenty. Make them specific and doable. Instead of “organise flat,” try “put laundry away” or “clear the kitchen bench.” These are achievable wins, and each little tick builds momentum.
Third, celebrate what you have done. Some of my clients now keep a “done list” alongside their to-do list. At the end of the day, they jot down everything they managed, even the small things like “took a shower” or “called Mum.” It shifts the focus from what’s missing to what’s been achieved, and that simple change can protect against self-criticism.
Finally, tune into your own emotional response. If every time you look at your list you feel dread, shame, or defeat, that’s good information. It might mean the list isn’t the right tool for you right now. Some people do better with visual boards, sticky notes they can move around, or even just setting a daily intention without writing anything down. There are no rules—you get to decide what helps.
A special mention here for parents of young children where the to-do list often doesn’t stand a chance. The best-laid plans can unravel in an instant—spills, meltdowns, or spontaneous adventures have a way of blowing up even the most carefully crafted schedule. And of course, this is part of why we adore them—their spontaneity, their childlike wonder, their ability to pull us into the present moment. But let’s be honest: they’re also the sworn enemy of the to-do list. That’s why I encourage parents to be more flexible and to think in ‘tiers’: an “ideal” list for when things go smoothly, a “good enough” list for the average day, and an “armageddon” list - or “survival”, “essentials only” or my personal favourite the “F-point” and I will let you work out what the F stands for - for when life feels like a scene from Lord of the Flies. On those days, toast counts as dinner and a dip in the pool doubles as bath time because at least the chlorine will kill off anything really nasty —and that’s perfectly okay.
If your lists have been turning against you, it doesn’t mean you’re failing. It just means it’s time to experiment with gentler ways of organising yourself.
In therapy, these struggles often lead us into deeper conversations about perfectionism, fear of failure, and how we measure our self-worth. Sometimes the list is just the surface symptom of much bigger themes. Exploring these patterns with a psychologist can help you create a healthier relationship not only with lists, but with yourself.
If you notice that your to-do lists are leaving you feeling guilty, overwhelmed, or stuck, you don’t have to figure it out alone. Speaking with a psychologist can give you space to unpack the pressures you place on yourself and to discover new ways of managing life that feel supportive, kind, and realistic. You can book an appointment with a psychologist here and start to find approaches that truly work for you.
