Experience and wisdom naturally come with age, as these five women have discovered.
Burned Out
Back in college, if the essay was supposed to be at least 10 pages, I naturally handed in no less than 20. I still remember the joy and pride when a professor wrote on one of my papers, “Perfect, well done!” That was the highest praise for me because I always longed to be perfect.
I carried this mindset into adulthood, but it only brought pain because I had no energy left for anything else. I pushed myself so hard to meet every expectation that I started to break down. My period stopped, I lost weight, and my hair began to fall out. Doctors told me there was nothing physically wrong, just that I was overworking and stressing myself.
I took it as if my body had betrayed me, but really it was signaling me to slow down. It took a breakdown for me to finally see things differently and make a change. Now, I’m kinder to myself, I pay attention, and I only do what’s necessary.
The Dynamo
My former boss called me a dynamo because I never stopped. I took my coworkers’ laziness personally and was deeply frustrated that while I gave 200%, they only gave 60-70%.
Then came middle age with its invisibility and neglect, so now I only give 70%, no more. (And even my 70% is still worth more than others’ 110%.) My biggest success is lowering my unrealistically high standards and peacefully embracing being average.
The Eldest Daughter
As the eldest child and grandchild—especially as a girl—I always felt I had to set an example for the younger ones. I liked that role and even enjoyed it back then. No one forced me; I wanted to perform above 100% because I equated excellence with being "good."
I believed I’d only be loved if I stood out in everything, as if I were only lovable if I earned it through achievements. I lived the "perfect" life until I was 42, then I got divorced and saw it as a huge failure. It was the first thing in my life that didn’t work out—no matter what I did, I couldn’t save my marriage.
Months passed, and I slowly realized I felt better on my own. My divorce wasn’t a curse but a blessing. From then on, I started shedding the chains I’d wrapped around myself, and it feels like I’m getting lighter.
I no longer make to-do lists, I don’t feel guilty sleeping in on weekends, and I don’t jump at everyone’s first call. I go shopping without makeup, and it’s not a tragedy if the house isn’t perfectly tidy. This year, I took it further: I told everyone I won’t cook a Christmas dinner or buy gifts because I want to rest.
The T-Shirts
I was the model mom, wife, employee, child, sibling—everything. My letting go started the day I decided not to iron my t-shirts. Why bother? They stretch out anyway. Next was the bedding—why iron that when it just gets wrinkled again?
From there, a cascade began. I found out my family doesn’t starve if I don’t cook two main dishes every day, my mom survives if I don’t jump at her first word, and my workplace doesn’t collapse if I don’t answer the phone after 6 pm or take a day off.
I can’t express how much easier life has been since. I finally stopped stressing and allowed myself to enjoy life. For me, mediocrity became freedom.
The "Praise"
At my first job, I typed my notes late into the night and highlighted important parts with three different colors. I remember a colleague looking wide-eyed at my pages and muttering, “Oh my God. Your photo is next to the word ‘overachiever’ in the dictionary...”
I heard the tone and knew it wasn’t a compliment, and I didn’t take it as one. Interestingly, those words only came back to me decades later, when despite my perfectionism, I was laid off, my eldest son wasn’t speaking to me, and my husband told me he’d fallen in love with someone else.
That’s when I hit rock bottom and realized how crazy I’d been—why and for whom was I pushing myself so hard? Since then, I’m a new person: I used to overachieve, but now my goal is simply to be average.
