Overcommitting benefits no one
Lesson #9 of 40
Hi, friends. Before we jump into today’s essay, I wanted to remind you that it’s okay to take a break from the news. Yes, it’s important to stay informed; it’s also important to take care of your mental health, especially in times of heightened stress. If you find yourself feeling overly anxious or obsessed with the news lately (lord knows I have!), please give yourself permission to take a break from it all. Go for a walk, call a friend, take a deep breath, and remember that everything will be okay.
As I approach 40, I’m embarking on a year-long project to reflect on the lessons I’ve learned in four decades of life. This is lesson #9. You can read the full series here.
The words you’re reading right now were written in stolen moments on a family vacation, a vacation during which I wrongly assumed I would have lots of time and energy to write.
I told myself that I would have time to both work and relax each day. But I haven’t been able to get much working done at all — a fact that, unfortunately, is making it hard for me to relax.
That’s why, now, halfway through our trip and on our first sunny day, I’ve cordoned myself off from my family to furiously catch up on missed time. From my writing perch, I can see a trio of adults relaxing on inflatable floats in the water. It feels like they’re taunting me. You could be us! If only you stuck with your plan.
I know how I got here. I’m reaping the consequences of a classic case of planning fallacy, a cognitive bias in which people tend to underestimate the time it will take to complete a future task. It goes hand in hand with optimism bias, which causes us to overestimate the likelihood of positive outcomes.
When the planning fallacy meets the optimism bias — a surprisingly common occurrence — we wind up overpromising and underdelivering. We imagine best-case scenarios and overlook potential obstacles, leading us to believe we'll have more time than we actually do or that we’re capable of more than is possible. We set unrealistic expectations for ourselves and feel let down when reality doesn't align with our hopes.
Anne Lamott brilliantly observed that “expectations are resentments under construction.” The high expectations I set for myself this vacation — that I would write, work, and relax; be wonderful company; get plenty of exercise in; and read a 592-page book cover to cover — have me feeling resentful. I’m resenting my workload and my choice to bring that workload with me on vacation. I’m resenting my partner for not magically anticipating how stressed I would be. I’m resenting being in front of my laptop on a beautifully sunny day. I’m even resenting Anne Lamott a little for writing such a perfectly encapsulated lesson — something that I’ve been banging my head against a wall trying to do for days.
Of course, all this resentment gets me nowhere. At some point, I have to wave the white flag and admit that my expectations for how much I would write and accomplish on this vacation were totally unrealistic. I have to admit defeat, lower the bar, and try to salvage the rest of the vacation time that’s remaining.
Perhaps most of all, I have to stop being so hard on myself.
One of my most toxic beliefs is that, if I work hard enough, people will notice and appreciate me. Without taking on all that work — juggling multiple clients, keeping the house nice and clean, meeting all my deadlines, making holidays extra special, maintaining a regular newsletter cadence, and so on — it’s difficult for me to feel like I’m good enough. So, I just work harder. I try to please everyone. I figure that, eventually, I will reach a point where I prove my worthiness.
Maybe then, I figure, I can finally relax.
But overcommitting benefits no one. It leaves me stressed out and exhausted. Instead of pleasing everyone, I tend to disappoint the people closest to me. Take, for example, this vacation: I promised myself that completing a work project wouldn’t get in the way of fun. I promised my mom I’d get to relax and catch up with her. I promised my partner I’d be less stressed out. I promised my daughter I’d be available to play and pretend all trip long. By trying to please everyone, I fell a little bit short, in every direction.
More often than not, I do get tasks done in the amount of time I planned for and keep the promises I make. But I’m not so good at accepting that, sometimes, things fall off the rails. I don’t anticipate the fact that there will be days when I don’t want to work or write. I forget that there are untold circumstances outside of my control — from how much attention my child will demand to how anxiety-inducing the news will be. I have trouble saying no. I make lots of plans for how things should go and have a hard time being flexible when those plans change.
The planning fallacy is something we all do; it’s part of how our sweet dumb brains are wired. Knowing this helps — it not only takes the pressure off thinking that this is some major personal failing of mine, but it can also (maybe? hopefully??) help me avoid this trap in the future.
The day this lesson hits your inbox, I’ll be on my way home from Vermont. As soon as I closed my laptop, I put on sunscreen and headed outside. I met my family for a lazy afternoon and began reading that 592-page book. Over the next few days, I picked blueberries, ate maple ice cream, went kayaking and paddle boarding, and laughed a lot. I even came up with some promising ideas for future newsletter essays. I stopped trying to prove I was enough.
I'll now spend a few days back home in Atlanta before my daughter and I return to the airport. During that time, I will once again be juggling plenty: deadlines, solo parenting, back-to-back meetings, unpacking and packing again. I’ll also be writing another lesson in this series, one that should hit your inboxes next Tuesday, the day after my little one and I fly to Pittsburgh to meet Billy. I am privileged to do all these things, and all of these things are exhausting. Both things can be true.
And here’s another truth: I will try to do it all, and will inevitably fall short of that vision.
That’s why I’ve added one more thing to my to-do list. Once I return home, unpack our suitcases, and take a breath, I’m going to pin a much-needed reminder to my desk: Overcommitting benefits no one. I will remind myself that, no matter what my brain tells me, that I am enough. And that working is not the way to prove it.
Then, after that? I might order some takeout and give myself a break.
xoxo KHG
You are right. No one gains from people overcomitting, Whether or not their motives are good.
For most of my 67 years I've lived with a constant and annoying voice in my head (One of several but that's for another day). I named him, "Pleaser". He's the character that chimed in every time I sat in medical school committee meetings saying, "You can do that, volunteer for that." So, I did, again and again, until I became overstretched and burned out. I hated myself for letting people down.
Thankfully, he and I have come to an agreement. I understood he wanted me to be loved by other people and his way of getting that love was to give too much of me away. Today, he still wants to please others but I, the grown-up, get the final say on how and when things will go. Life is quieter, more manageable and I get time to enjoy things.
I don't think I'm alone here! That's what a lot of Imposter Syndrome is about.
This really hit home for me! Your candid reflection on the planning fallacy and the impact of overcommitting was so relatable. I loved the moment you decided to join your family and truly enjoy your vacation. It’s a powerful reminder to balance ambition with self-care. Thanks for sharing.