There is a particular kind of meeting fatigue that has very little to do with the actual topic under discussion. It is the fatigue of decoding. Decoding what the meeting is for. Decoding who is actually making the decision. Decoding whether you are expected to contribute, listen, perform enthusiasm, summarise, solve, or simply witness. Decoding whether “any thoughts?” is rhetorical. If you often leave meetings thinking, “That took an extraordinary amount of energy for something that produced three vague action points”, this is for you.
Let us begin with a small but radical idea: you are allowed to design your participation.
Before the meeting: reduce the guesswork. If there is no agenda, that is not a personal resilience test. It is an information gap. A short message such as, “Could we have a brief outline of what we’re aiming to cover so I can prepare properly?” is entirely reasonable. Framed this way, you are not asking for special treatment. You are signalling that preparation improves performance.
If agendas rarely materialise, make your own micro-version. Ask yourself three questions:
What is likely to be discussed?
What might they want from me?
What would ‘useful contribution’ look like?
Even a two-minute prediction exercise reduces cognitive load in the room.
If meetings routinely blur into one another, build a buffer. Five or ten minutes beforehand to read the agenda again, jot down one or two points, or simply breathe without input. That space is not indulgent; it is transition time. Brains do not teleport.
During the meeting: manage energy, not optics. Many of us were socialised to believe that visible engagement equals competence. Nodding. Smiling. Immediate responses. Camera perfectly positioned. Swift verbal contributions. In reality, effective engagement looks different for different nervous systems.
If you process more slowly, it is entirely acceptable to say, “I’d like a moment to think about that,” or “I might follow up on that by email.” Thoughtfulness is not a flaw. It is an asset with a slightly longer loading screen.
If cameras drain you, consider whether every meeting genuinely requires them. If they do, can you reduce other sensory input? Lower screen brightness. Hide self-view. Adjust lighting. Sit in a position that doesn’t aggravate pain. Small ergonomic shifts add up.
If the conversation is fast and chaotic, use the chat strategically. It can be easier to type a point than to fight for airtime. A concise written contribution often lands more clearly than a rushed spoken one.
If you find yourself overwhelmed, anchor to one simple task: note the decisions. Not the whole discussion. Just the decisions. This gives you a defined role and something concrete to hold on to.
After the meeting: close the loop. One of the most draining parts of meetings is the ambiguity that follows them.
If actions are unclear, send a short follow-up. Clarity emails are not signs that you weren’t paying attention. They prevent rework, which is everyone’s least favourite hobby.
“Just to check I’ve captured this correctly — I’ll do X, and Y will do Z?”
If meetings leave you depleted, schedule recovery as deliberately as you schedule attendance. Ten minutes to stand up, stretch, lie down, stim, walk outside, or sit in silence. The goal is to reset your nervous system before the next demand arrives. If that sounds basic, that is because it is. Basic maintenance is still maintenance.
For recurring meetings: adjust the structure. If you are in a position to influence format, even slightly, small tweaks can transform the experience.
Circulate questions in advance.
Rotate facilitation so one person is not managing both content and social dynamics.
Summarise decisions verbally before closing.
End five minutes early to allow transition.
These are not grand reforms. They are friction reducers. And they benefit every professional in the room.
And if you are not in a position to influence the structure, you can still define your own success criteria. Instead of “I must say something clever”, try “I will ask one clarifying question” or “I will identify one next step”. Narrow targets reduce pressure.
A note on the myth of effortless contribution
Some people genuinely enjoy rapid-fire brainstorming in noisy spaces. Others do their best thinking in quiet, alone, with time. Neither is morally superior. They are just different processing styles. If you leave a meeting with better ideas than you had in it, that still counts. Send them afterwards. Many of the most useful contributions arrive once the adrenaline has subsided.
Finally, remember this: meetings are a tool, not a measure of your professional worth. Struggling in an unstructured, high-speed, socially dense environment does not mean you are bad at your job. It may simply mean you are trying to think clearly in conditions that were not designed for your brain or body. Design your participation where you can. Protect your energy where you can. Clarify where you can.
And if you ever find yourself in a meeting that could have been an email, you are allowed to think that quietly to yourself.
Possibly while turning your camera off for thirty seconds and rolling your shoulders.