I was the kid next door's imaginary friend

-bullet journalling was invented by a man with a learning disability (99% sure it was ADHD but his website now just says learning disability so I can't be 100%) as a system for organizing his life/way to work WITH his learning disability

-the general concept is bullet point the important things you need to do and use a simple system of symbols to mark whether it's done, rescheduled, cancelled, etc. with very little fanfare, keeping it all in one notebook so you know where to easily find the information at a glance

-people pick it up and it starts getting popular

-bullet journaling becomes an aesthetic movement largely populated by white neurotypicals

-bullet journaling has turned into creating an extremely pretty notebook that has some function, but largely depends on complicated decoration and aesthetic function that takes more time to set up than is tenable for the people it was created for

-new entries to bullet journaling feel pressure to shop at particular stores, use particular brands, purchase lots of stationery purely for its aesthetic value, and prioritize the artistry of the pages rather than the information being stored on them

-people who would massively benefit from the original system can only really find information on it from members of the aesthetic movement. There is now a barrier to entry for ppl with ADHD and other similar conditions, as bullet journaling now requires a focus and motivation to start that these same people often lack or struggle to maintain consistently

This is the original guide from the person who made bullet journalling. Super simple. Not at all high maintenance.

And yeah, it's frustrating. I use my bullet journal close to how it's described there (different bullets/symbols, and a little bit of colour marking to make things more easily findable), and whenever I went looking for ideas to try out to organise stuff, if I found anything, it was buried under mountains of fancy layouts.

Now, the postman couldn’t see him from the front door, and I scribbled my signature and said, to my son, “You need to put some trousers on.”

My postman, very slowly, looked down at his trouser-clad legs with a mixture of confusion and horror, and then looked back up at me.

Happy Pride Month 2022!!!