The idea for this good enough series arose out of the frustration of once again catching myself falling prey to perfectionism and the pursuit of external validation.
It came from sitting in my therapist’s office, and talking to her about my ongoing feelings of boredom and purposelessness. “I just sort of feel flat.” I told her, “But everything is actually fine! I love my work, my relationship. There aren’t any big stresses right now. I’m just so confused.” I say, and stare at the floor because the weight of my embarrassment felt too heavy to bother holding my head up.
After some time of her holding space with patience and curiosity, we started to make some connections. We put together how, for the first time I found myself to be in a place of non-striving. Since puberty, my life has been an incessant push for AP credits, volleyball scholarships, and new lines to add to my CV. We decided that the most accurate description for my ennui is that I am a recovering over-achiever.
I remember beginning my master’s program and being in awe of how my classmates did things like candle making, knitting, or playing the piano in their spare time. I had been so consumed with the push to “succeed”, that all “unproductive” hobbies had been long abandoned.
I started to become more aware of how much my over-working was a defense mechanism during the pandemic. Out of the blue I got an opportunity to write a book. The tight deadline had me working long days glued to my laptop.
As hard as it was, the intense project also became my life raft, transporting me out of the uncertain and scary times we were living in and into a work tunnel of distraction. The process of writing a 200-page book in 3 months took a toll on my mental and physical health. Even so, when I submitted my final draft to my editor, rather than feeling elated, I mainly felt a sense of emptiness. This feeling was one of the big reasons why, I accepted the offer to write my second book… on the same tight timeline, and only a week after finishing the first one.
Since finishing the books, I jumped into launching a private practice and completing the extensive requirements to be an accredited sex therapist. Now that those boxes are ticked, I’ve reached an empty space in striving. A place of freedom, a place where hypothetically I could enjoy what I’ve worked for. But rather than feeling a sense of peace, I feel quite lost and uncomfortably bored.
A thoughtful friend asked me on my birthday my intention for the year. My intention was to slow down. “Year of the Dog,” I called it. This referred to both my literal intention to get a dog, but also that this would be a focus for me to slow down— to go on walks, to put my energy into something that wasn’t about checking the next box.
Part of what makes identifying my over-achieving feel so embarrassing, is that my value system and my intentions are directly at odds with this behaviour. I strongly believe that our worth is given— it is not something we need to hustle for. It also feels hard to talk about this challenge because admitting it feels somewhat braggadocious. We live in a society that highly prizes productivity. I recognize that there is privilege in the way my body copes with stress by bulldozing through work, when it leaves many people feeling frozen.
Mentally, I am so clear about my desire to get off of the hustle-hamster-wheel, but it is so new to me that I feel lost. Recovering from over-achieving may feel awkward to talk about, but I think it’s important, because I don’t think that I am alone.
My intention is not to demonize hard work. I absolutely believe there is value in dedication, perseverance and grit in the pursuit of our goals. What I am advocating for here is for us to consider the reasons underneath our constant striving. Are there certain feelings you are afraid to feel? Do you feel undeserving of rest? What would it be like to believe that you are good enough already?
If we can bring more awareness to what’s fuelling our grinding, I think we can give ourselves more choice to pursue goals that intrigue us rather than accomplishments we believe will complete us.
3 Things that Help
Dr. Adia Gooden’s work.
Octavia Raheem talks with such nuance about balancing hard work and rest. I love her book Gather for her wisdom, poetry, and prompts for reflection.
This post by Jezz Chung. They also have a zine, which I haven’t had a chance to read yet, but am keen to!