Doing It All Is Exhausting. Choosing Grace Is Better.

Have you ever been so overwhelmed by the list of things you should be doing that you end up doing… absolutely none of them?

Every day becomes a ritual of boxes to tick, as if completing them might finally make you whole: warm lemon water first thing in the morning, vitamins, collagen, makeup, hair styling, stretching, the gym, meditation, nightly retinol—oh, and don’t forget all the while being a good employee, a good friend, a good daughter, a good girlfriend, maybe even a good wife. And for some women, as if that’s not already enough pressure, being a good mother too. (I truly don’t know how you all do it. I can hardly take care of myself, let alone a tiny human.) It’s like a never-ending audition for “perfect woman,” and honestly? It’s fucking exhausting.

She looks like she has it all together… turns out, she doesn’t.

Some days, I am that task-completing queen, crushing my to-do list and feeling on top of the world. But last week? Not one task was checked off. I woke up every morning in that same spiral, and no matter what I tried, I couldn’t shake it. Visiting home had left me with this massive pit of guilt—so happy to see friends and family, yet sad I couldn’t be there the way I used to. The time I spent with loved ones wasn’t enough, and the list of people I didn’t see was longer than the ones I did. Add to that the whirlwind of starting a new job I truly love—yes, I’m crushing it, but there’s still so much more to learn and do. By Friday, I’d guilted and overanalyzed myself straight into full-on analysis paralysis.

And just when I thought there was no way out of the mental hole I’d dug, the universe dropped a reminder in the form of my upstairs neighbor and friend. I’d told her I was having a week, and she admitted she was too. So I grabbed us ice cream and we had a little venting session. She talked about writing her master’s thesis, and all I could think was: she’s incredible. Her drive, her talent, her commitment. When I said it out loud, she looked shocked, and admitted she thinks the same about me. Both of us, drowning in anxiety while admiring each other.

And that’s when it hit me: isn’t it wild how easily we admire others, yet refuse to see how incredible we are ourselves? As I rattled off everything I’ve been juggling: work, French lessons, my blog, lifting, running, it dawned on me. If someone else told me this was their life, I’d be like, “Wow, this woman is killing it. She’s doing it all!” So why is it so hard to say that about myself?

We’ll always believe our girlfriends are icons (and forget we’re icons too).

We’re quick to push ourselves harder, but rarely quick to give ourselves credit. There’s such a fine line between striving for better and actually being proud of how far you’ve come. And I realized I’d stumbled right over it.

So, I did the only logical thing someone like me would do: I gave myself permission to stop performing for everyone else and just… be. I marched to the dollar store, filled a cart with Halloween decorations (my unofficial Labor Day weekend tradition), came home, hung them up, and put on the new I Know What You Did Last Summer.

And let me tell you, the energy shift was instant. My body went from stiff and stressed to soft and smiling, like a kid on Halloween night. By giving myself one guilt-free evening to not be anything for anyone, I found a little clarity. A little peace.

It’s amazing what a little grace can do for your soul. Whether it’s a bubble bath, a long walk, a Netflix binge, or just putting your phone on Do Not Disturb, the form doesn’t matter. What matters is that you give yourself permission to rest. And it’s just as important to remind each other, too. Sometimes a simple, “You’re doing great. I’m so proud of you” can shift everything. That 30-minute ice cream chat completely changed my perspective, and I hope it did the same for her.

And if you still find yourself struggling? Seek professional help. There is absolutely no shame in therapy. As I sit here writing this, realizing how much worse my anxiety has gotten since I stopped going, I’ve already got another browser tab open looking for a new therapist here in New York. Because anxiety is your body’s way of saying something isn’t right: mentally, physically, or both. The least we can do is listen.

Here’s what I’m learning: the world won’t end if you skip the lemon water or show up with messy hair on that 9am Zoom. What matters are the lifelines. The little things that make you feel human again. For me this week, it was a trip to the dollar store where I bought an absurd amount of Halloween decor. Because sometimes the best antidote to overwhelm isn’t productivity… it’s plastic pumpkins.

So maybe we can’t do it all. And maybe that’s exactly the point.

✨ Et voilà! We give ourselves the grace we’ve been looking for.