When I write out a professional bio, it might say something like Psychiatrist. ex-BCG. Mental Health Educator. Writer.
What it doesn’t usually say is: Recovering Overachiever.
Here’s the background: I graduated high school valedictorian out of a class of almost 700. I finished college in three years, and I started medical school at Vanderbilt at the age of 20. After completing four years of medical school and four years of residency in psychiatry, I did a 180 over to the business world, joining BCG as a management consultant alongside a cohort of fresh MBA grads.
Why? Well, the professional case for it was so that I could learn more about healthcare strategy and operations–which I was really interested in and wanted to explore further. But there was also the personal side: I wanted to prove to myself that I could.
I was used to chasing achievement.
And the need to achieve isn’t inherently bad; in fact, motivation and drive is quite positive for mental health, increasing feelings of capability and confidence.
But, as often is the case, too much of a good thing…
It’s taken a lot of unlearning, but I am actively working on not achieving. I’m working to slow down.
How?
The unlearning was largely through therapy and self-exploration. What messages about achievement had I understood when I was young? How had I tied my self-esteem to academic pedigree or professional excellence? How were those beliefs being challenged by the people around me? Did I still espouse those beliefs today?
The underachieving was somewhat by accident. Becoming a mom, even though my kiddo was very much planned, upended my life, usurped my time, and changed the core of who I am. Matrescence–the transition to motherhood–brought me to my knees (more on that another time).
My limits changed after becoming a parent. The essential skill borne from the redistribution of my self was respecting the limits of my time and my energies, and selecting their investment more carefully.
There’s an intentionality to doing less: before pursuing something, I ask myself if I am doing it for the internal joy, or for the external validation? There’s a present-centeredness, too: Do I need to pursue this at all? Am I pursuing this for the sake of “the next thing”? Is where I’m at now just fine?
When I was in residency, I was working with an academic researcher in psychiatry. I was not enjoying research all too much, and I knew it wasn’t going to be something that was a big part of my career. When we talked about academic writing, I shared that what I really enjoyed was non-academic writing (like this!). She peered over her glasses, appalled, and asked, “You want to be a pop psychiatrist?”
Her question assumed two things: that academic achievement is the de facto more valuable pursuit, and that even non-academic writing would be about the achievement at the end (“becoming a pop psychiatrist”).
But I wanted to pursue neither. Part of doing less is moving past the need for an outcome–the achievement–at all. It’s about savoring being, not becoming. So here I am today, just enjoying writing–no expectations be had.
Matrescence! Need this on a shirt - and waiting for your next article where you hopefully explain why becoming a mother also means buying SO MUCH STUFF.