I’ve been struggling with burnout and being present lately, both personally and professionally. Somewhere along the way, my mind started associating going above and beyond with being liked.
I’m an only child of divorced parents who didn’t get along. From an early age, I knew I didn’t want to be like them. Sure, I love my parents, but they both have a lot of big flaws that shaped me in ways a child shouldn’t have been shaped. I learned that if I did a great job at everything – if I just tried harder – maybe my hard work would be rewarded. I became known as “reliable,” “constant,” “dependable,” and so on. I became the catch-all person.
I got my first job at 14. I’m 36 now, and I’ve never been unemployed since that very first one. It’s crazy, but I also know I’m incredibly blessed. Ugh. Blessed. I hate that word, honestly. I never felt “blessed” when I was working 60+ hour weeks. I never felt “blessed” when I worked odd jobs or pushed my body past the point of exhaustion. I’ve always taken on more and more and more – constantly trying to prove my worth and my value.
So when I finally had kids (eff you, unexplained infertility), I vowed to never let them think that their worth in this life came from having to prove themselves or earn my attention.
That brings me back to the burnout, my own personal struggle. One day, it all bubbled over. No one wanted to eat the haphazard dinner I threw together. Someone was whining. The dog was licking God only knows what. The TV was on. My husband was watching a video on his phone. I snapped and yelled at my two-year-old. My five-year-old looked like she’d seen a ghost. My husband just looked… sad. Even the dog ran and hid. And it broke me.
In my mind, I was no longer the dependable, do-everything supermom. I stood there, email open on my phone, Slack pinging a mile a minute from the other room… and then my phone rang. A client. At 7:30 p.m. Ugh.
“Can’t I get a single minute to think?!” I thought, ironically.
That night, as I put my daughter to bed, we read books, sang songs, and her big blue eyes filled with tears. She looked at me and asked, “Why do you love your work more than you love me?”
My heart.
Oh, my littlest lovebug. I love nothing more in this entire world than you and your brother – the two things I’ve worked the hardest to have.
From that moment, I made a change. I decided to be more present. I silence my phone and turn on Do Not Disturb every night at 5:30 p.m. I leave it on the counter. I shut down my computer. I eat dinner and actually taste the food. I listen as my kids talk about their days. I play. I set boundaries, real ones, for the first time in my adult life.
Yes, I have career aspirations. Big ones, actually. I’m not perfect, but in my children’s eyes, I’m perfect to them. And right now, that’s all that matters. The hustle and grind can wait. I’ll get back to that when my daughter becomes a sassy teen and I’m no longer “cool,” and my son just wants to hang with his bros. But right now, this is their time.
It’s been about a month since I made this shift. I know it’s not possible for everyone, but if you take one thing from this, let it be this: live in the moment. Because your memories won’t be about which email you responded to on a Friday night at 8 p.m. They’ll be made up of the moments you created with the tiny humans who matter most.
P.S. I also want to add that I have an incredible husband. A true partner who has encouraged me to make all of my dreams come true, no matter what they are. He does more than his fair share, and for that, I will always be thankful.
