Tiny Buddha

Tag: workaholic

  • Think You Need to Prove Your Worth? A Simple Exercise That Might Help

    Think You Need to Prove Your Worth? A Simple Exercise That Might Help

    “You alone are enough. You have nothing to prove to anyone.” ~Maya Angelou

    A few years ago, I operated on the belief that my worth was tied to what I could offer others. If I couldn’t assist with job opportunities, provide transportation, or support someone in some way, I didn’t see the point of forming a connection.

    This mindset stemmed from a period in my life when I was married to someone battling drug addiction. He often remarked, “Without you, I’d probably be in jail or dead,” and deep down, I knew it was true. It was a perfect match, and I felt that my sole purpose was to serve and help him.

    Many people in our circle lauded this dynamic, praising my loyalty and dedication. It gave me a sense of purpose and self-worth. I even became a marriage mentor, guiding others down the same path I had trodden. Concurrently, I was a workaholic, and if you’d asked me about my week, weekend plans, or hobbies, I’d have recounted work-related stories—they were my only experiences at the time.

    Throughout this period, I battled chronic gut issues. While not debilitating, they were a constant annoyance, with my stomach reacting negatively to most foods. I tried various remedies, including doctor visits, medications, and dietary changes, but nothing seemed to work. So I went on, living with this persistent discomfort.

    Then came the day I woke up with a haunting thought: “It hurts to live.”

    Overwhelmed, exhausted, and still grappling with gut problems, I found myself in a dark place. I had no understanding of depression or why this thought had taken root in my mind. All I knew was that I didn’t want to get out of bed.

    A compassionate colleague sensed my struggle and introduced me to her therapist. I had no experience with therapy and wasn’t sure what you even did in a therapy session, but I knew I had to make a change. So I began therapy right away.

    Unveiling the Root of My Suffering

    Fast forward a few years, and my life has transformed dramatically. I am divorced, free from gut issues, no longer a workaholic and, most importantly, I’ve realized that I am a human being, not a human doing. It was during this journey of self-discovery that I had a profound revelation about what had likely caused my suffering for so long.

    In his book, The Myth of Normal: Trauma, Illness & Healing in a Toxic Culture, author Gabor Maté MD outlines five personality features commonly found in individuals with chronic illnesses. One of these features struck a chord with me: “overdriven, externally focused multitasking hyper-responsibility based on the conviction that one must justify one’s existence by doing and giving.” It described me during those years with astonishing accuracy.

    Does this description ring a bell for you or someone you know?

    This belief, deeply ingrained in my psyche, permeated every facet of my life—my work experience, my choice of partners, my circle of friends, my health, and much more.

    But here’s the thing: I didn’t consciously choose this way of being. I didn’t wake up every day and think, “Today, I’ll justify my existence by putting everyone and everything above myself.” These patterns often develop subconsciously, often as coping mechanisms, especially in childhood when resources may have been scarce.

    For example, if in your family, achieving more translated to receiving more love and affection, you might find yourself overachieving to secure that love. Over time, these behaviors become normalized and even celebrated by society and those around us. By the time you become aware of them, they’ve become deeply embedded in your identity, making it challenging to differentiate between these learned personality features and your authentic self.

    Embracing Self-Worth Just for ‘Being’

    The path to reclaiming your self-worth involves looking inward, getting curious, and embracing your true self. Since the belief that you must justify your existence by constant action isn’t a conscious choice, tapping into your subconscious can be a powerful means of shifting this perception.

    One approach is to identify and befriend the parts of yourself that are trying to keep you safe through excessive external focus and action. Integrating these parts can help you move forward and rediscover your innate worth just for being yourself.

    Techniques for this journey can be found in Susan McConnell’s book, Somatic Internal Family Systems Therapy: Awareness, Breath, Resonance, Movement, and Touch in Practice. Additionally, Dr. Lucia Capacchione developed a non-dominant handwriting technique to access your subconscious and uncover the needs of these inner parts.

    Here’s how you can try the non-dominant handwriting technique:

    1. Gather a pen, journal, and take a moment to calm your mind.

    2. Reflect on a recent experience where you noticed yourself justifying your existence through excessive action and giving.

    3. Pay attention to the emotions you felt during that experience.

    4. Engage in a handwritten conversation with the part of you that believes it must focus on external actions to stay safe. Use your dominant hand for your rational thoughts and your non-dominant hand for the subconscious part. You can even use different pen colors for each hand.

    • Start with a simple greeting using your dominant hand.
    • Allow your non-dominant hand to express itself.
    • Acknowledge and affirm the subconscious part using your dominant hand.
    • Continue the conversation, repeating the process.
    • Conclude with a message of support and understanding from your dominant hand.

    Spending time befriending and integrating these parts can help shift your belief from “I am a human doing” to “I am a human being.” You are enough simply by existing. If you struggle to believe this, try the exercise and see what emerges. Your journey to self-discovery and self-acceptance is uniquely yours, and there are many paths to explore.

  • Workaholics: Why Staying Busy Feels Safe and How It Takes a Toll

    Workaholics: Why Staying Busy Feels Safe and How It Takes a Toll

    “The ego desperately wants safety. The soul wants to live. The truth is, we cannot lead a real life without risk. We do not develop depth without pain.” ~Carol S. Pearson

    Workaholism is the body’s wisdom in action, literally.

    Some people develop workaholic tendencies because they crave to be seen as the best through their accomplishments.

    But I’m not here to talk about people who’re obsessed over their image.

    The particular strain of “workaholism” that isn’t talked about enough is a perfectionist’s addiction to productivity.

    It has little to do with being recognized for your brilliance or achievements in the outer world, and much more to do with your own unattainably high standards for yourself and others.

    It’s not about winning a shiny trophy at the end of the day so everyone will know you’re the real deal, but knowing that you’ve improved yourself, others, or the environment around you–even if it’s just neurotically reorganizing your closet.

    It’s knowing that you made the world a better place and that you didn’t cut any corners to get there.

    Whether it’s your career, community projects, or personal to-do lists that consume your everyday life, your addiction to activity is problematic for many reasons. Once you get a dose of completing a job, an impulsive urge to drown yourself in more activity immediately creeps in. Without it, you experience a profound sense of worthlessness.

    You struggle with accepting your work as it is, and your inner critic never settles for okay enough.

    This kind of “improvement” workaholism is about self-worth and a felt sense of safety. Because idleness feels unsafe in the body of a workaholic, non-activity is misconstrued as uselessness, which feels like a gaping hole in your beingness. The wisdom of a workaholic’s body knows that not creating, producing, or improving oneself or the environment is on par with being an unlovable sack of garbage.

    So your body keeps you busy.

    Addiction to activity shows up in myriad ways. Doing your coworker’s job for them because they’re not meeting your standards. Working long hours to perfect a project that you logically know doesn’t need to be perfect. Cleaning the house when it’s not dirty. Pouring more energy than is necessary into helping your kids with their homework. An inability to rest, relax, or experience pleasure unless it’s “earned”–and even then, it’s a fleeting and rare occurrence.

    When the Body Goes to War

    My workaholic perfectionism took a toll on my body starting in my mid-twenties. It’s common for people fixated on perfectionism and activity to chronically hold tension in their bodies. I was so armored in my muscles that I injured my neck from stiffness, leading to some of the worst pain I’ve ever had.

    I was living in rural Japan at the time. Desperate for help, I drove forty-five minutes through snowy conditions down a country road to see specialists who spoke no English, and to this day I have no idea what their area of specialty is called–I’ve never seen it anywhere else. But they treated me in their home on a regular basis to bring me the relief I needed to keep my sanity.

    And that was just the beginning.

    From that point onward, I continued to injure my neck several times a year. After returning to the U.S., I saw chiropractors, physical therapists, and massage therapists on a recurring basis. They certainly treated my symptoms, but I didn’t understand why I was so chronically rigid and injury-prone.

    And then came the injury that changed the course of my life.

    In my early thirties, I developed tendonitis and a repetitive motion injury in my right arm from using the computer in my office job. I worked hard, perfecting every task, email, and spreadsheet that came across my desk. I continued to hold tension in my body, and I rarely took breaks. Desperate to keep working despite the pain in my right arm, I compensated with my left arm and injured it too.

    Different parts of my body were at war with each other–one part guilting me to stay in the hustle cycle, another part sending smoke signals to get me to slow down and rest.

    I ended up on disability for eight months.

    I struggled to take care of myself. Bathing, cooking, cleaning, and doing laundry were no longer feasible. I could not hold open a book to read. It took months to be able to return to normal activities. For someone who’s historically been addicted to staying busy, it was a nightmare to not be able to work per doctor’s orders.

    Two years later, my doctors agreed that I have a permanent partial disability. I am no longer able to work in any eight-hour desk job. A throbbing hand reminds me when it’s time to rest, and now I know to listen.

    Sprinkled through my late twenties and early thirties I also experienced episodes of suicidal ideation and general depressive states. I felt profoundly worthless even though I had my dream job in a beautiful coastal town of California.

    My monkey mind was full of chatter. I fixated on how to feel better, but I was just clinging to the same old habits of endless mental and physical activity.

    Through that difficult passage of time, I believe my psyche was taking me down the dark path of individuation, the transformative process of integrating one’s unconscious and conscious mind-body.

    It’s everyone’s birthright to return to wholeness—a magical reunion of parts that were separated and abandoned in the process of childhood. I discovered that I had banished lazy self-indulgence deep into my shadow.

    Jungian depth psychology and pole dancing opened me up. I healed through embodied sensual movement, accessing my creative inner guidance, making time for spontaneous play with no agenda, and finding peace in my deep stillness.

    Today I move with ease in my body. I find pleasure in places where I could not before. I know how to be in my deep stillness, and I have what feels like true, sustainable joy.

    It doesn’t mean I never slip into old habits. In fact, I still find new iterations of old patterns as I move through life, but I know how to work through them. It’s become my superpower.

    The Unconscious Driver in Your Mind and Body

    Often, we glorify hard work, refusing to admit the destruction it does to our minds and body when it’s become a habit.

    Many workaholics see their patterns as justified, always armed with a list of reasons why they must deliver the much-needed improvement or task despite the obvious sacrifices being made. They do not respond well to being told that they need to slow down or prioritize their well-being.

    Best case scenario, they agree that they work too hard but don’t know how to be any other way.

    If this resonates, maybe you beat yourself up for not being more present with yourself or your loved ones. And maybe you have a tendency to be your own worst critic due to your sky-high internal standards, so you’re particularly sensitive to critical feedback from others.

    The good news is that there’s nothing “wrong” with you. You’re not a bad person because you’re too busy to show up for others. You’re not a self-sabotaging idiot because you worked so hard that you injured yourself. You’re not broken because you can’t sit still.

    Just like any other addiction, workaholism is a coping strategy.

    Workaholism is a learned behavior that serves to protect you from feeling the pain and discomfort of being completely tuned in to your deep stillness without the activity. A work-oriented perfectionist unconsciously harbors a belief that they’re unworthy unless they’re busy fixing themselves or the world.

    Your workaholic tendencies have an incredible intelligence. Your body is brilliant, much more than your conscious mind and ego-persona, which think they know better. But they’re vastly mistaken.

    Five percent of your cognitive activity is conscious and the other 95% is unconscious.

    The 95% largely drives your actions, non-actions, urges, and beliefs. Your endless activity isn’t coming from your conscious thinking mind. You might be convinced that your sheer willpower and self-discipline are the reasons you’re so productive. But that’s simply not the case. You’re the result of unconscious conditioned patterns that influence your behavior in the world.

    If that isn’t humbling, then I don’t know what is.

    The urge to work longer and harder than is good for you is a felt sense in your body. Your impulses—if you pay really close attention—are a reaction to not wanting to feel a certain way. Ultimately, it’s to avoid the discomfort of being fully present to your perceived worthlessness in the midst of being idle, non-productive, and undisciplined.

    It’s so sneaky that you often never feel the first dose of discomfort because your body is so well programmed to keep you busy that it knows exactly how to keep you from feeling like a useless waste of space.

    Your body in its wholeness is so much smarter than your tiny fraction of conscious thoughts.

    It’s not your fault that you’ve never learned how to be any other way. It’s not your fault that most therapists, mentors, educators, and caregivers have no clue how to actually help you change your patterns.

    The great news is that you can change. Your mind-body is not permanently wired this way.

    Science and many different proven techniques tell us how we can change ourselves in ways that seem unimaginable. Unfortunately, these methods lag behind in formal education and the knowledge base of many healers. But, there are many entry points to working with your mind and body to transform how you show up.

    Mind-Body Practice

    While it’s not your fault that you’ve been conditioned to stay perpetually busy, it is your responsibility to do the inner work if you want to enjoy life as your best self who doesn’t need to work to feel worthy.

    If you have a conditioned tendency to avoid stillness because your body misconstrues it as dangerous, then you have to prove to yourself that endless activity is not the way to live fully in your pleasure, presence, and peace.

    Partner with your body and get lovingly curious about yourself.

    The precise activity that you avoid most, idleness, is one way to get acquainted with your inherent, non-negotiable worthiness. This will inevitably dredge up anxiety, depression, and other uncomfortable feelings.

    Learn to be in touch with what you’re feeling in your body, known as interoception. This alone is a practice that will pay you back tenfold in overall well-being, decision-making, and trusting your inner guidance.

    Observe where you’re holding any physical tension. Pay attention to places where discomfort begins to stir and notice what your first impulse is. Often, the urges that arise have a positive intention of squashing the discomfort. For someone with workaholism, that urge is productive activity.

    The body is excellent at reacting at warp speed to these signs of discomfort. Notice where the unease is showing up in your body and develop a practice of sitting with it–another practice that’s worth learning if you want to take the risk of being a human in a world of uncertainties. The treasures of life are found in the unknown.

    Over time, you will learn when your activity is exiting the healthy, productive realm and entering the unhealthy, self-sacrificing realm–so you can intervene.

    You’re incredibly capable of healing and changing your life. You’re not broken, no matter what your struggles are. Trust me, every practice I preach is one that I’ve used to transform my own life.

    Remember that you’re a beautiful creature who’s learning to exist exactly as you are—magnificent, perfect, and worthy.

  • How I Stopped Being Everything I Hated About My Parents

    How I Stopped Being Everything I Hated About My Parents

    “The beautiful thing about life is that you always change, grow, and get better. You aren’t defined by your past. You aren’t your mistakes.” ~Unknown

    When I was an angsty fourteen-year-old, I remember screaming at my parents that I never (ever!) wanted to become like either of them. And I meant it.

    My dad was a workaholic who was never at home. When he was at home, he was emotionally unavailable, arguing with my mother, or he’d escape the stress of our house by going to the betting shop to gamble.

    My mother had erratic mood swings, did not allow me to have age-appropriate boundaries, and would talk to me about the lack of intimacy between her and my father. These were, unfortunately, not role models that inspired me.

    As I entered my twenties and experienced adult life for the first time, I continued to carry the ideation that my life would be different. I was determined not to become my parents. And for many years, I naively lived life proudly thinking I had not turned into them.

    Then, one day, I opened my mouth and heard my mother’s voice come out. I can’t even remember what I said, but I recall the feeling of utter despair. Despite all my thinking and wishing over the years, I had become my parents. This prompted me to reflect on my life so far, and I realized that I had repeated many of my parents’ patterns.

    I had become a workaholic to avoid feeling my emotions, was in an abusive relationship but didn’t realize this until well after it had ended, and I struggled to know how to develop healthy friendships due to difficulties setting boundaries.

    Shit. Damn. Bugger it.

    I’d accidentally become my parents! Why was all my thinking and wishing over the years not enough to stop this from happening? I thought that I had more control over my life than this.

    During my own self-discovery journey, I found that there are many reasons why we repeat the same family patterns. I also learned that we can change them.

    Humans learn from watching and copying other people’s behavior, and children are sponges that soak up everything in their environment.

    For example, when I was a child, I remember my dad ordering a meal at a restaurant, and the vegetables on his plate were stone cold. Instead of sending the meal back and asking for hot veggies, he complained about how terrible the restaurant was and ate the cold meal. When I became an adult, I struggled to assert myself in similar situations, which led to a lot of anger and resentment.

    Learned behavior is not just a one-time thing. It is passed down from generation to generation.

    For instance, my paternal grandparents lived through the Great Depression in the 1930s, before my dad was born.

    They taught my dad that food was a scarce resource, so he carried this belief with him into his adulthood, and subsequently passed this down to me through not being able to model assertive behaviors.

    This is called intergenerational trauma because the unhealthy family dynamics continue throughout new generations. Generally, intergenerational trauma is defined by events that affect people profoundly, such as child abuse, parental incarceration, poverty, war, natural disasters, etc.

    Sometimes, we aren’t even aware that our family dynamics are unhealthy, or we might be aware but are too scared to change. This is usually because humans have a strong desire to be accepted and belong. In fact, this is very important for our survival.

    For some people, repeating those family dynamics means that they continue to be a part of the family unit.

    From a young age, I was often labelled as the ‘black sheep’ of the family, because I voiced the unspoken, toxic family rules. It became easier for me to distance myself from my family rather than remain enmeshed in a family environment that was detrimental to my mental health and well-being.

    The good news is we can change our patterns so that we don’t become (or continue to be) our parents.

    The first step is to be aware of the unhelpful patterns that you’re carrying with you. Without awareness, we cannot change.

    I started by asking myself what emotions I experienced frequently and whether they ever seemed like they were out of context or disproportionate to the situation.

    One emotion I often struggled with was jealousy. Whenever a friend would share something positive about their life—if they got a new car, got a promotion at work, or won a competition—my go-to emotion was jealousy.

    This impacted my friendships, as I was constantly comparing my life to theirs and driving them away by trying to find ways to make sure my life was more successful. This led to perfectionism in everything that I did, and let me tell you, it was exhausting! I couldn’t maintain this lifestyle, and I felt like I was drowning.

    When I hit a low point after my relationship ended, I sought therapy. Through therapy, I learned that the reason I compared myself to other people so frequently was due to the beliefs I held about myself. I didn’t feel like I was good enough as I was. This made a lot of sense when we explored the relationship I had with my parents.

    They regularly compared me to other kids and were only proud of me when I performed better than anyone else. It made sense that, as an adult, I would experience strong feelings of jealousy toward other people. Jealousy meant that I was constantly trying to prove my worth to other people rather than living life on my own terms.

    I then looked at my beliefs about this situation/emotion and thought about where and when those beliefs developed. Identifying the patterns behind my behavior was a positive first step in my inner healing journey, because you can’t heal what you don’t know.

    Because I wasn’t taught what emotions were or how to understand my emotions as a kid, I needed to learn how to do this as an adult.

    My therapist helped me to better understand the motivations behind our emotions and develop new strategies to cope with these.

    For example, with my jealousy, I learned that this was a response from fear and insecurity. I was able to learn to identify my thoughts, and when I realized that I wasn’t actually unworthy but rather that was the story I had learned from my parents, I was able to choose different behaviors instead of continuing to follow the same old patterns as before.

    I recognized that perfectionism meant I worked too much, so I learnt how to slow down through mindfulness and yoga. Once I was able to recognize my emotions for what they were, rather than reacting to them without awareness, I was able to make better choices about how I wanted to respond to that emotion.

    Having that space to understand my emotions meant that I could move out of the comparing myself to other people situation, and I was able to step into the entrepreneurial space and create a business that I love. I wouldn’t have been able to do that if I hadn’t done the inner work to change and not become my parents.

    I learned this was why my wishful thinking didn’t work. I knew I didn’t want to be like my parents, but without additional support from a therapist, I didn’t know what to do instead! Therapy helped me learn how to deal with old patterns in new ways.

    From there, it was all about practice. These habits and patterns existed for many, many years. I knew they would not change overnight. However, with perseverance and practice, I was able to make meaningful changes in my life. I found it helpful to keep a journal to record my progress so that I didn’t forget how far I’d come.

    Finally, it was important for me to remember that my parents are human too. In addition to recognizing the unhelpful habits they taught me, I found it useful to remember some of the positive traits or experiences I’ve gained.

    Even though my dad was a workaholic, he instilled a strong work ethic in me, which has helped me when creating my own business. My mother loved to travel, and she has definitely passed that love to me as well.

    Reminding myself of these things allows me to acknowledge my parents’ humanness, especially in moments where I find it hard to offer them grace. For me, reminding myself of the positives is a way to honor my need to have compassion for myself.

  • Was I An Overachiever or Really Just Trying to Prove My Worth?

    Was I An Overachiever or Really Just Trying to Prove My Worth?

    “I spend an insane amount of time wondering if I’m doing it right. At some point I just remind myself that I’m doing my best. That is enough.” ~Myleik Teele

    Just one more client. Just one more call. Just one more. Repeat, repeat, repeat.

    Then, maybe, just maybe, I will feel validated. Worthy. Appreciated.

    That’s how success works, right? Everyone has to like you, think you’re amazing, and recognize all of your hard work for you to be successful? I learned the hard way that this is the path to overwhelm, burnout, and a massive anxiety disorder. Because, you have to grind it out for that business; forget your physical, emotional, and mental health.

    Let’s not scapegoat my business, however; my lack of self-worth started years, decades even before I opened my former company.

    As the oldest of three, I was expected to achieve.

    In middle school, I played competitively on an AAU (Amateur Athletic Union) basketball team. I remember never feeling good enough, tying my self-worth up in what my coach thought of me, if our team won or not, or if I scored a certain number of points. Something I loved became something I despised.

    Playing basketball in high school left me feeling empty and like fraud. If I wasn’t the best, who was I? The performative pressure was suffocating.

    The overachiever in me was never satisfied, never okay with mediocre.

    In high school, I took the SAT three times to earn the scholarship I needed to pay for most of my education. I got into the top state schools and even some private colleges. I couldn’t apply to just one. I had to apply to just one more.

    With each letter of acceptance, I felt validated. Like I actually belonged and that my life held meaning. Maybe then, when I got into my dream school, I would be worthy, and all of this anxiety would be worth it.

    “Where are you going in the fall”? I remember not knowing how to answer that question.

    Wanting to go to college and actually going were two very different things.

    My parents sent me to a private college prep school, where we were practically reading through course catalogs freshman year. I thought it was something that was next in the sequence of achievements.

    On the way home from a college tour in the spring, my mom told me I had to pay for room and board. I just had to figure out how. I ended up staying in my hometown and going to community college, which was a blow to my eighteen-year-old ego. I was devastated, angry with my parents, and frustrated about all the hard work I had put in with nothing to show for it.

    My self-worth was in the tank; my need to prove myself was at an all-time high. So was that constant, chirping companion, anxiety.

    After two years of community college, I transferred to a state college and chose education as my major. I wanted to be a leader, a catalyst for change, a visionary. I made the Dean’s list, worked my way through college, and even got married.

    After I graduated, I taught physical education and was also athletic director of a grade school. I believed that by using my degree I worked so hard for, I would finally be happy and fulfilled. Instead, the position came with a principal who gaslit and bullied me daily, at the time taking away any joy that I had in my chosen field. But I had worked so hard for this. Shouldn’t that be enough?

    Working hard was always a badge of honor I wore proudly; more accolades from others to put into the validation tank. All the while, I never felt worthy. As the things I’d worked so hard for were taken away from me, I began to wonder if success was even in the cards.

    I felt lost. Undeserving. I was focused on my first year of marriage, teaching, and working on extended family relationships. Would I ever be accepted?

    If I tried hard enough, they would like me, the overachiever in me believed.

    But wait, was I really an overachiever? Maybe it was something deeper?

    Was I just addicted to working hard because I was trying to prove my worth and gain approval?

    With a full-blown anxiety disorder, depression, a drinking problem, and zero boundaries, I entered my thirties thinking that if I just made it in business, I would be whole.

    What a crock.

    The patriarchal standards I had tried to measure up to, were the same ones holding me back from living a life of peace. If I just, “hustled,” and “grinded,” despite the effects on my mental, emotional, and physical health, I could finally prove my worth. All that ended up proving was that mental health matters. My work is not my worthiness.

    So how did I go from codependent thinking and seeking validation outside of myself to understanding that we are all born worthy?

    First, I had to decide what really lights me up like a firecracker. Passion, playfulness, and purpose are lost when you were trained to look outside yourself for validation.

    I’d spent my life focused on achievement. What did “success” even mean? It wasn’t until I was well into my thirties that I realized success, to me, means freedom, and freedom meant letting go.

    I had to then get radically honest with myself about my upbringing, my relationships with family members, my belief system, and what I wanted out of life.

    Did I really want to run the service-based business I’d started after I quit my teaching job, with several employees, ongoing calls and emails, that had me working holidays, nights, and weekends, and that left me in a people-pleasing tailspin on a regular basis?

    My honest answer: No.

    Relief washed over me. Not regret, longing, or sadness.

    Relief.

    I then realized I needed to let go of people-pleasing, overachieving, and the need for external validation in other aspects of my life, which meant doing some radical boundary setting and self-reflection.

    Looking back through my years of wearing my hard work in school as a badge of honor, drowning in my former business like a sacrificial lamb, and navigating the sometimes-chaotic waters of a new marriage and family, I can finally understand that my worthiness doesn’t come from others. I am good enough as I am. My oneness comes from within, not from outside accolades.

    Getting to the root cause of the unworthiness, worry, and workaholism was a deep dive into my childhood and young adulthood. I realized I carried toxic shame and guilt and believed that if I was just “enough,” I would be able to finally be free.

    Turns out, the complete opposite is true. Chasing becomes all-encompassing. I had been treading water; doggie-paddling, not knowing that the pool of people-pleasing I was swimming in was keeping me stuck.

    These days, creating takes the place of hard work, clarity takes the place of drinking to cope, and self-compassion takes the place of validation-seeking to prove my worth. And that toxic friend named Anxiety? She still likes to show up unannounced, but I have the self-acceptance and healthy internal dialogue to keep our interactions short.

    Take it from this former overachiever: You are worth more than your work and your accomplishments. Just one more client? Just one more call? Not anymore. Now I just choose freedom.

  • Feeling Burnt Out? Meet Toxic Productivity & Grind Culture with Rest

    Feeling Burnt Out? Meet Toxic Productivity & Grind Culture with Rest

    “Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare.” ~Audre Lorde

    When you hear the word “productive,” you likely think of something positive: busting through that work assignment, making your house sparkly clean, or crushing your hobby.

    Productivity is what we all aim for, right? On workdays and even on our days off, we seek to make something happen.

    Grinding and hustling are seen as admirable, and something to work toward, always.

    If we fall short, we beat ourselves up, and sometimes even drag ourselves off the couch to force ourselves into productivity. We feel if we don’t complete all of the tasks, we’ve failed. We set crazy high expectations for ourselves then hate ourselves when we don’t meet them.

    What would happen if we scaled back, even just a little? What if we included rest in our practice?

    It seems we’d fall apart, we’d become piles of mush, not contributing to society or our own lives. This is bullsh*t. Toxic productivity grinds us down, not forward.

    The need to be productive all the damn time impedes our ability to enjoy life and take a breather once in a while.

    I’m not saying that all productivity and hustle are bad. I’m saying the culture around needing to be a robot of a human, producing 24/7, is what gets us into trouble.

    I’m guilty of it myself. When I got my first big girl job out of college, I worked for a fancy tech start-up. I was amped to be given so much responsibility at age twenty-three, so I worked all the hours I could to prove I was capable.

    The “work hard, play hard” culture was pushed at my job. After all, we had a ping pong table, avocados in our snack room, and bean bag chairs to nap on. Who needs an apartment when you’ve got everything at work?

    That was my mindset. I grinded, early mornings and late nights, extra coffee and minimal sleep. It was almost cool to be working in the office on a Saturday.

    I had a coworker who slept at the office multiple nights a week. We all thought she was crazy, but I wasn’t far off.

    On top of all my work, I had a gazillion hobbies. I was running a blog, playing hockey, volunteering at my meditation center, attending twelve-step meetings, and trying to date.

    The grind never ended. When did I rest? Never. Rest was for the wicked.

    It all eventually caught up to me when, one dreary winter evening, I sat in my therapist’s office sobbing about how I didn’t want to be alive anymore. I had burned the candle at both ends for too long, and it had all become too much.

    I was sent to a mental hospital, and my whole life came crashing down. I had been institutionalized for two whole weeks when I began to reconsider my life.

    “Is this what I want for myself?” I thought. “Can I even keep going like this?”

    The answer was no. My work and life patterns were not sustainable. I couldn’t keep “yes-ing” everything and everyone.

    Something had to give. I was bursting at the seams, with no coping skills to tie me together again. With no choice, I had to give up my job and submit to my healing.

    For a year, I didn’t work a full-time job. It was very unlike me. I was privileged to get on disability and was able to take the time to pick apart my life to find what wasn’t working.

    What I found to be toxic was the grind, or the pursuit of always needing to be doing something. It ate away at me and my perfectionist tendencies, always wanting to be the best.

    Instead, I embraced rest. I know I’m privileged in this because not everyone has the same chance to do such a thing. Some have no choice but to work forty-plus hours a week.

    Still, even now, with a full-time job, in grad school, in a relationship, and with several hobbies, I carve out space for rest. I know how important it is to my overall well-being.

    I do this by giving myself some space on a certain day of the week to just do nothing. I have full permission to kick back and do whatever I please: nap, read a book, watch tv, lay in the grass. The point is to not have to be productive for some time.

    Not only do I give myself an entire day, I try to carve out moments all throughout the week where I can just take a deep breath and be. Whether that’s getting up for a stretch or walk from my work computer or cuddling with my roommate’s cat for a moment, I enjoy life.

    Life isn’t just about how much I can produce. Being able to rest is essential to being the best human I can be and enjoying this short amount of time I have on Earth.

    The way that I suggest to drop the grind culture and toxic productivity is to examine your life. Ask yourself these questions:

    • Am I pushing myself beyond my limits?
    • Do I have too much on my plate?
    • How am I beating myself up?
    • What can I prioritize?
    • Where can I include more rest?

    Take a look at your life and see where you fall victim to toxic productivity. But don’t be overscrupulous! The point is to peek, not scour.

    With this information, you can make informed choices that intentionally include rest. Rest is the way out of this mess. Sometimes my productive brain even tells me, “If you rest, you’ll be able to work harder!” Maybe, but that’s not the point.

    The point is we need to recharge. There’s a reason why we sleep almost a third of our lives; we need the respite. Look at working out, one needs to rest in order to rebuild.

    Our bodies are sending us cues left and right that it’s what we need to do, but we often don’t listen until it’s too late and our gauge is past empty.

    You don’t need to wait until you’ve been hospitalized to rest. You can choose it today, in whatever increment makes sense for you. I promise it’s worth it.

  • The Simplest Ways to Find Calm in the Middle of Life’s Constant Chaos

    The Simplest Ways to Find Calm in the Middle of Life’s Constant Chaos

    “When you are resting because you are worn out, you need to remember that you are not wasting time. You are doing exactly what you need to do. You are recovering.” ~Unknown

    I woke up at 3am when I heard my alarm ring. I slowly pulled my arm away from my son, who was half holding my arm and half lying on it, so that he didn’t wake up. I tip-toed out of bed while my husband and my son were sleeping.

    My eyes ached and were blurry from sleep deprivation. My head felt like I was floating in the air. But even so, I couldn’t sleep any longer.

    Knowing that just in a few hours, I would have another fully busy day at work, with deadlines all over my head, and I’d have to deal with all the mails marked “urgent” yesterday before getting to today’s mail.

    My sleepiness went away quickly as I started to feel butterflies in my stomach. Not in a good way.

    The deadlines, the rush and anxiety, all kicked in. I felt like I wanted to cry. And so I did a little.

    But I felt like I shouldn’t feel that way, that I should be grateful instead.

    The whole pandemic gave people hell. And I am so lucky that my family is safe, and we are doing fine.

    My husband could not work for six months, and I have been the sole provider since. But I am lucky that I still have a job.

    Compared with how other people go through their days, I should be grateful.

    But on a wild thought, I just wanted to open my laptop and send a resignation mail right away.

    Because I was tired.

    I was tired of being the sole provider.

    I was tired of trying and pushing so hard.

    I was tired of taking care of other people.

    I was tired of getting tired but not being able to sleep.

    I was tired of getting up so early alone.

    I was tired of working at different jobs all the time.

    I was tired of not getting enough breaks or not saying “screw it.”

    But I can’t. I have a family to take care of, I have a little boy to worry about.

    Being strong, being resilient is the only choice I have.

    So I turn on some music when feeling lonely, wipe my own tears when having a mental breakdown. Tell myself to stay strong, and always keep going forward.

    But today, I woke up and realized, I don’t have to feel that way.

    Life gives me responsibilities not to break me down. Responsibilities are the sublimation of love.

    Because of love, I wake up early and work while others are still sleeping.

    Because of love, I agree to do different jobs to be able to take care of my loved ones.

    Because of love, I need to take care of myself first.

    Because not only do I love them, but they also love me and want me to be happy.

    I realize I am not a superhero that never makes a mistake. I am a human being. I screw up sometimes. I oversleep sometimes. I miss deadlines sometimes. I act stupidly sometimes. I get lazy sometimes.

    And it is okay.

    It is okay for me to slow down and take a deep breath.

    It is okay to take a break so that I don’t get burnt out.

    It is okay to make mistakes and say “I don’t know” with pride.

    It is okay to know that I cannot control every single aspect in my life, and the good thing is I don’t have to.

    Because that’s how unexpected things happen. That’s the fun of life.

    And I know there is always a place that I belong and find peace: my home, my family, my heart.

    If you are like me, feeling the world is fighting against you, here are a few simple ways to find calm in the chaos.

    1. Stop what you are doing and take a deep breath.

    I learned this technique through one of Louise Hay’s books. You take a deep breath, tense your body as hard as you can, and hold it for a few seconds. Then release and exhale.

    Do it a few times whenever you feel worried or stressed. The butterflies-in-the-stomach feeling quickly dissolves.

    2. Find a peaceful place.

    No, you don’t have to call your boss to ask for an immediate vacation on a beach, nor do you have to go to the bathroom and cry (though you can do either if you think it would help).

    Look inside yourself and find your peaceful place—or person.

    Who do you love? Who do you do this for? Remember, responsibility is the sublimation of love.

    When I’m at work and I am about to have a panic attack, after taking a few deep breaths, I pull out my son’s videos and pictures. I remind myself that I love him, and he loves me no matter what.

    He gives me a reason to believe that I am worthy and I am loved and gives me the strength and motivation to keep going.

    3. Meditate daily, even just for five minutes.

    I learned that meditation is not about clearing your mind and thinking of nothing; it is about accepting who you are and not letting your wild thoughts control you.

    Don’t worry about learning how to meditate, just sit down in stillness as an act of love for yourself. Be present, aware of your thoughts.

    You will soon realize that meditation helps to untangle your thoughts so you don’t feel controlled by the chaos in your life.

    4. Thank yourself.

    Have you done it today? Have you thanked yourself for all the good you do and stopped to think about how proud of yourself you are?

    Look at how amazing you are taking care of your loved ones, how their lives are much better because of you, or how brave you are in all the things you do, or even how you are aware of this moment. There are thousands of reasons to be proud of yourself.

    Most of us focus more on what we think we’re doing wrong than all the things we’re doing right, and this creates a constant sense of anxiety. If you give yourself a little credit instead, you’ll likely feel instant relief. So remember to thank yourself at every chance you get.

    —

    When life gets busy and overwhelming, it’s tempting to think you can’t relax until everything gets easier. That you need to escape or make it all stop, which generally isn’t an option. Fortunately, we don’t have to make major life changes or run away to find a little peace.

    Calm is not when you are at the beach enjoying a drink. Calm is right there in the middle of the storm. Calm is in your heart.