Living for the Finish Line

As my school year went on, I leaned toward burnout and chanted to myself that I could make it to the next break. First, it was fall break- a glorious, self-imposed two days off in the middle of the fall. I can make it, I can make it. Then winter break- two weeks of family time, rest, and catching up on work. You can survive until then. Spring break. You got this. Summer. You can do this.

I made it. I’m here, on summer break, and I can breathe. My lap feels strangely naked when we sit down to watch TV together and I don’t hold a stack of papers to grade; I have energy to make real meals, exercise, and clean my house. Time stretches out in front of me, full of space to get pulled in to a book I can’t put down or dive into a project I’ve been meaning to get around to. I’m making the plans with my family and friends that I kept saying I’d do for the last eight months, and finally- I feel like I have the space to make them happen.

In August, I’ll miss this. All these things will go back to being squeezed into the margins of my time and focus. For awhile, I told myself that was fine because it was temporary. When I was a new teacher, of course it was hard to balance the parts of my life. When I moved schools, grade levels, or subjects, it was understandable to feel overwhelmed and invest a lot of time into keeping my head above water- because it would get better.

This year marked ten years of teaching for me. Two states, four schools, five grade levels, and everything from one subject to all of them. So much change, and yet, some things never do.

Every year, I struggle to stay organized and stay on top of paperwork. Every year, I stay after school because I have so much I need to get done, and every year, I’m so drained that it’s hard for me to accomplish much of anything. Every year, I tell myself things will be different- and while I get better bit by bit, I’m realizing that even when I’m not new to my job or position anymore, the workload and my struggles don’t magically go away.

I’m not sure what needs to change, but I know always limping towards the next break isn’t healthy. Life can’t always feel like the summer, but it shouldn’t feel like I’m waiting for summer to live the life I want to live. I need to find a way to work, while still coming home with the time and energy to focus on my family, my home, and the things that give me life.

It’s okay to use milestones to push through a temporary stressful time, especially when something crops up you can’t control. It’s not okay for milestones to guide your entire life. That means something needs to change.

For me, maybe I need a different job, or I need to be better at setting boundaries for my time. Maybe I need to let go and do less, or schedule the important things so I make them happen. I’m not sure what this will look like, but recognizing the need for change is powerful. It’s time to stop living for the finish line and enjoy the race.

Type B Perfectionist

I've always envisioned perfectionists as people who fought to keep everything in their life perfect. Someone who obsessed over getting the praise, the achievement, and the recognition of doing everything right as much as possible- and generally, succeeding in it.

A friend of mine was the perfect example in my head. She was someone for whom the A was not enough; she would go to her teachers and beg for extra credit to get the A+. She cared about the minutiae- less because she really wanted to, but because she was insistent that she could and would accomplish anything that others expected, and she wanted to do everything right so that the next steps of her life would line up. The A+'s would lead her to scholarships, and the best college, and all the success she saw in her future.

In some ways, I was a lot like this friend. We were both in a lot of the honors and AP classes, we both got good grades, we both cared a lot about school. But there were times when she would keep pushing, and I would stop. I can remember hating chemistry and being plenty satisfied with a B in the class. I wanted to do well, but it was less about what others thought of me- and more about feeling like I had done what I could, and that was good enough.

During one of my early therapy appointments, I was told I'm a bit of a perfectionist.

At first, I laughed. I mean, really? This friend of mine- she had been a perfectionist. She had cared about being perfect for the sake of being perfect. Her life was about hitting someone else’s benchmarks for her achievement.

Come on- a perfectionist would be early for everything, keep their room neat, and turn assignments in on time. A perfectionist was a Type A person who insisted on, well, being perfect or near it in everything. A perfectionist is that 100,000 follower account on Instagram where every picture is bright white, and every room is perfectly appointed and picked up despite her daily workouts, homemade Whole 30 meals, and stylish Outfit Of The Day featuring curled hair and a full face of make-up.

On the other hand, I tended to be a high achiever- but I’m a procrastinator who’s always running late, most likely to be spotted with a bun as messy as my house.

I denied being a perfectionist, emphatically, until she echoed what I had related to her:

• I hold myself to high standards- higher, often, than what others do.

• My “to do” list is never done and I can never seem to do enough.

• I constantly compare myself to what I think I "should" be able to do.

And I realized, hearing it then, that I am a perfectionist.

Some perfectionists aim for others’ expectations; my friend was one of them. She thrived on the achievement and recognition.

Me, though? It’s not about the school’s honor roll list, the teacher’s feedback, or my parents’ pride- instead, the expectations that drive me come from within.

So yes, there are some areas I let slide, because they don’t matter much to me. But when I deem something important? Despite others telling me it’s okay, let it go, stop worrying so much, I can’t seem to let go of my own targets. The expectations can be crushing, because no one else can lower them for me.

I felt silly when I realized she was right.

How could I have missed this? How could I be so sure that wasn’t me?

Now, I’m trying to learn how to lower my standards. Surprisingly, I’ve discovered that a lot of my workload woes were centered on expectations not set by my boss, my colleagues, or my clients- but instead, I’ve set myself up for failure by expecting too much.

What’s something that you do because you think you should- but no one would notice, care, or struggle if you cut back?

Is there something you could let someone else take over?

Can you think of a task you don’t actually need to do?

When could you stop at “pretty good” instead of pushing for “perfect?”

Sometimes, I need to give something every bit of myself. Sometimes, high expectations mean great results. But too often, I push myself past where it matters- and no one else is checking off the boxes but me.

Stop waiting for someone else to cut you a little slack, and say no to the “should” in your own head. You are probably doing better than you think.

Sometimes, as Sheryl Sandberg says, done is better than perfect.

And with that?

Goodbye, shoulds. I’m hitting publish.