Throw out the f*cking ruler
I set too many of the wrong benchmarks for myself. That stops now.
I am going to be open and vulnerable here: the past six months have felt like none I’ve experienced before as an adult. I walked away from the certainty of my corporate career. In the most anticlimactic way possible, I got COVID, which felt like being hit with a shoe that someone’s been dangling over my head for three years. I lost my last and closest grandparent. These developments left me feeling a bit unmoored from the constructs I had placed around my life. Now, I am living through something new: the emotional discomfort of the unknown. It’s distracting as hell, and what’s worse, it’s the perfect environment to convince myself I am failing at everything I try to do.
Benchmarks kind of control my life. I’ve always aimed for the public-facing ones, like earning good GPAs, getting hired for better and better jobs, and receiving top ratings on my annual reviews. But I’ve also chased deeper, more internalized benchmarks that cause more damage than good. I set them for my new job, which I did in hopes of churning out visible accomplishments to prove my worth. I set benchmarks around my weight, which I try and try to ignore but now just conflate with other discomforts surrounding my physical upkeep. I set benchmarks around this newsletter, which would be a full-time job if I had my way with it. I even journey so far as to construct elusive, in-the-moment benchmarks to assuage my concerns about reaching the bigger benchmarks. Think: if you can finish this task before the kids walk in the door, you will get a book deal. It feels icky to even admit something so obsessive, superstitious, and dopamine-driven. But here we are.
You can imagine how someone who grades herself constantly could fail herself often.
In times like now—when my brain feels like scrambled eggs and I am not sure when it will stop—I am not meeting the marks I’ve always relied on to operate. I wouldn’t consider them motivating factors but more like pegs on a perpetual rock wall. Without using the pegs, how do I reach the top? Am I even moving at all?
When we set these subjective barometers, we invite frustration or relief but nothing in between. Take my running pace, for example. A couple weeks ago, I went for my first outdoor run at home months and failed miserably by my own standards. I was lethargic, my knee hurt, but nothing felt worse than being slow. Despite a whole winter of strength training, I was fixated on a pace based on last summer’s standard of running four times a week. It was like none of my other efforts to get stronger mattered.
At work, I set a goal to secure Doug a certain number of speaking engagements and partnerships within a certain timeframe of me joining the firm. There was no financial urgency pushing me doing this—I just wanted to do it to prove I could (and to show other people that I could). But after a couple months, I realized the sheer hours I was putting into blanketing the internet with my solicitations were neither efficient nor worth the outcome. My superficial goal had no greater purpose than securing my belief that I had a direction.
And I’m afraid to admit how this pervasive thought process is seeping into this newsletter. I’m cultivating a space that gives credence to even the smallest wins in our regular lives. Creating stakes where none exist is diametrically opposed to what I’m trying to do, but man, it’s hard. I do love to write just to write, and I do love to create just to create. But growth isn’t as simple as putting out good work. Chasing numbers and metrics can easily eclipse everything if you let it.
It’s scary to realize that checking certain boxes may not lead to certain results. Even if they once did. Even if now, you’re not sure what will lead to the results you want.
In the middle of this mess, I was talking to a nurse at my doctor’s office about a recent flare-up of a medical condition. I asked if there was anything she suggested to ease the issue, and she said, in the empty way that people do, something about resting, relaxing, and removing any stress. I laughed and asked, “So I should just become someone else?” But it did get me thinking.
If you are able remove certain expectations from your life, you should try.
I set a lot of expectations for myself. Many of them don’t matter. They are benchmarks tethered to a life I now have the freedom to pull away from. They kept me secure before I had the guts to live without them, but now, I have a chance to live without them.
I started exploring this while running last Sunday. I’d been out a couple times since that first tough afternoon, but on Sunday, I decided to just run for as long as I needed to think. I set no goals for pace or distance. I just went until I felt content with how far I’ve gone. That was how I knew I had enough.
With work, writing, and the intersection between the two, I am trying to implement a similar mindset. I’ve discovered so much about my new industry and the climate for building platforms in the past six months. I am learning what works and what doesn’t. Nothing is how I imagined, and I’m being guided in different, more emergent directions than I anticipated. But by dialing into moments, research, conversations, and connections, I’m discovering more about my true purpose in being here. It’s so much less what, and so much more how. It’s a hell of lot more why.
If anything these seismic changes and resultant feelings are teaching me, it’s that forward is not entirely linear. Upward is not a constant climb.
We may never stop measuring, if that is who we are. But sometimes, we need to throw out the fucking ruler to really grow.
Who else sets unreasonable benchmarks for themselves? Comment below, restack to share, or email me: averagejoelle3@gmail.com.
Readers: I want to hear from YOU!
Last Mother’s Day, I started what I hope to make an annual tradition: celebrating the tiny victories women win every day. I asked for yours, and you delivered.
I’d love to make this year’s This Is How We Win issue even bigger, so send me your wins, starting now. Note, these are not just wins about mothers but any women’s wins, big or small. You can nominate others or yourself. Above is an example of how it’s done.
Don’t make me coax them out of you, because I will. I will post on social every day between now and the pub date. Email is preferred, but I may even DM you. Truly, I have no shame, so I ask you to please show your support for Our Tiny Rebellions by saying something nice about yourself!
Also
I read:
We Don’t Perform Motherhood for Our Kids - The Cut
For Kwame Onwuachi, Virtuoso Chef of Tatiana, the Time Has Come - Esquire
The Wages of Overwork - Culture Study
I made:
Several Sad Girl Lunches (TM), an anti-FoodTok term I’ve coined for the leftovers you piece together from your fridge onto a plate and call it lunch. They’re sad but also cheap and efficient and sometimes all you’ve got?
I bought:
These gorgeous outdoor throw pillows from West Elm. We’re in the middle of a backyard aesthetic reno that includes new furniture, landscaping, and decor. I can’t wait to host this summer. Pics to come once it’s done.
Love this. We talked this week about enjoying the process, not being tied to the outcome. Hard to do but something to strive for! Also who cares about running pace--you’re showing up. That’s all that really matters! 💛💛