Baking Sourdough Bread as an ADHDer

January 30, 2025

(Bonus: ADHD-Friendly Recipe at the End!)

I was born and raised in France, where fresh, crusty bread is a daily staple. There’s nothing quite like the smell of a well-baked loaf, with its crispy golden crust and airy crumb. After years of struggling to find good bread where I live, I decided to take matters into my own hands.

Naturally, this led to an ADHD-fueled hyperfocus on sourdough baking. For the past two months, I’ve been in an “all or nothing” deep dive—buying books (half-read), learning fancy baking terms, and accumulating new kitchen gadgets. I’ve watched endless videos, rapidly scrolling past the slow parts, soaking in just enough information to get started.

And, of course, my kitchen has turned into a gluten-covered disaster multiple times.

Here’s what I’ve learned from my chaotic but rewarding sourdough journey:

1. Time Is an Illusion

I used to think baking had to happen at a specific time—like, start at 6 AM for the perfect loaf. Nope. Now, I begin whenever my brain allows me to. Sometimes that’s 2 PM. Sometimes later. And that’s okay. Start your starter in the morning for baking in the afternoon, or the night before for mixing the next morning. 

2. Low-Maintenance Starter Strategy

I’m not great at maintaining routines, so my sourdough starter lives in the fridge until I need it. When I’m ready to bake, I take out 40g of starter, feed it 80g flour and 80g water, and use all but 40g—then back to the fridge it goes. No daily feeding required.

3. Impatience Calls for a Warming Mat

ADHD and waiting? Not a great combo. I use a warming mat to speed up fermentation because I tend to forget about my dough otherwise. (And when I forget, things get... weird.)

4. Hyperfocus Is a Superpower (Until It’s Not)

I’ve realized that I won’t stay obsessed with sourdough forever. ADHD interests fade, and that’s okay. I use my hyperfocus phase to build a solid foundation—learning by doing, tweaking recipes, and getting a feel for the process. That way, when my interest inevitably shifts, I’ll still know how to bake without overthinking it.

5. Trust Your ADHDer Intuition

Strict timelines don’t always work for me, so I’ve learned to bake by feeling instead. I pay attention to how the dough looks, feels, and smells rather than relying on exact timers. ADHD intuition is a gift—use it! Over time, you’ll start to sense when the dough is ready to move on to the next step.



ADHD-Friendly Sourdough Recipe

The easiest recipe I’ve found (and tweaked) is from The Perfect Loaf. Here’s how I make it work for my ADHD brain:

  • I skip the levain step. Straight to mixing what I created with my starter. I only use levain if the recipe is NOT sourdough bread.
  • I don’t follow strict timelines—I shorten the bulk ferment by 30 minutes since I keep things warm.
  • I speed up the preshape step—waiting only 15 minutes because the dry Colorado air messes with my dough.
  • I adjust the fridge time as needed—sometimes longer, sometimes shorter, depending on my mood and schedule.

You can find the original recipe here: Simple Weekday Sourdough Bread – The Perfect Loaf

Sourdough baking as an ADHDer is messy, experimental, and unpredictable—but also incredibly satisfying. If you’ve been thinking about trying it, just start. Make the process work for your brain, trust your intuition, and most importantly—enjoy the bread!



Annabelle Denmark (she/they),  LPC is a therapist based in Lakewood, CO, They specialize in individual therapy for neurodivergent adults. Annabelle utilizes IFS, EMDR and sensorimotor psychotherapy to support people on their healing journey.  

You can find them at www.renegadecounseling.com


June 20, 2026
As a therapist, I have heard some version of this question more times than I can : " Why do I always attract the wrong type of people? People who take and take and never give back. People who ignore me. People who treat me badly." And here is the honest answer: you don't know any better yet. Not because you're broken or oblivious — but because your nervous system is doing exactly what nervous systems do. It's keeping you in familiar territory. Familiarity Beats Safety. Every Time. This is the piece most people miss. Your nervous system isn't wired to seek out what's good for you. It's wired to seek out what's known to you. So if all you've ever known are relationships where love was conditional, where you had to earn your place, where being neglected or disrespected was just... Tuesday — then that's what your system registers as "normal." And normal feels safe, even when it isn't. Here's where it gets interesting. A lot of people who grew up in those environments discovered a workaround: give more . Give enough, and people like you. Give enough, and you stay in control. The more you do for people, the more you're needed — and being needed feels like belonging. The problem? That vibe attracts people who need to receive but can't reciprocate. And being given to ? Being truly cared for? That feels downright threatening, because it's unfamiliar. Familiarity beats safety. Every time. So How Do You Change the Template? You don't change your relationship patterns by finding better people. You change them by changing what feels normal to you. Here's how: 1. Notice what happens when you receive. Pay attention to how you feel when someone gives you a compliment, does something kind for you, or offers help. Really notice it. Most people who grew up giving first, last, and always feel deeply uncomfortable in that moment — fidgety, dismissive, quick to deflect. That discomfort is data. It's telling you that your nervous system has spent decades turning away from receiving and toward giving. 2. Start asking for things. Ask for help. Ask for support. Ask for care. And then sit with how hard that is. This isn't about becoming needy — it's about practicing something your system has been avoiding for a long time. 3. Build your tolerance for receiving, slowly. When the discomfort shows up (and it will), don't run from it. Notice it. Sit with it. Send it a little curiosity instead of judgment. If you do parts work, this is a great place to get curious about the part that goes stiff when someone is kind to you — where do you feel it in your body? Does it have an age? What does it need? Give it some compassion. It's been working very hard to keep you "safe." 4. Orient toward the people who actually show up for you. This one's simple but not easy. Start paying attention to people who offer care without expecting anything in return. Notice how it feels to be around them. Watch how they treat others. And here's the key shift: focus on who you are when you're with them — not what you can do for them. Follow the discomfort. The people who make you feel slightly squirmy because they're just... genuinely kind? Those are the people worth your attention. 5. Let it become your new normal. The more you orient your energy toward people who care for you without keeping score, the more familiar that starts to feel. Slowly, effortlessly, your template shifts. You stop scanning for ways to be useful and start noticing how you feel . That's when you know something real has changed. The Bottom Line You're not cursed. You're not a magnet for bad people. You're just running an old operating system that was built to keep you safe in an environment that wasn't. And like any operating system, it can be updated. It takes time. It takes discomfort. And it takes being willing to let people actually care for you — even when that's the scariest thing of all. That's the work. And it's worth it. Annabelle is a Licensed Professional Counselor and the owner of Renegade Counseling, a telehealth practice specializing in complex trauma, dissociation, and neurodivergent-affirming care. She works with adults across Colorado and Washington.
a small wooden mannequin
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