If you work really hard, follow the rules (and the prescribed path), then you’ll get what you want. And then you’ll be happy. 

Not only did I work hard, but I worked harder than most. By the time I was 30 years old, I had been married to a successful physician, had three kids, owned two homes, and had a thriving private practice. After years of working hard, I was freaking tired. And I wasn’t happy.

Here’s what I know now. I spent most of my life trying to prove my worth. Trying to demonstrate through my accomplishments that I mattered. That I was worthy of love and attention. This led me to being the ultimate overachiever. Chasing that Supermom status.

No matter what I did, it was never enough. I consistently pushed myself to be better. Smarter. Thinner. Stronger. Prettier. Hating my body for not being what I thought it should be. Feeling betrayed anytime I walked by a mirror and it reflected back a woman who just couldn’t get it “right.”

You know what that led to? Burnout. Disordered Eating. Resentment. Frustration. Anxiety. Depression.

It also led to loneliness. When you’re trying to prove that you deserve a seat at the table, you isolate and withdraw from others. Sure, I had lots of acquaintances and friends. And I was really good at putting on a great front that everything was great. All the while, I was desperately seeking the approval and accolades from others.

And I got them. The applause. The admiration. But it never filled me up for very long. I found myself chasing that high. That Supermom status. Becoming a slave to a life I wasn’t even happy with. 

Honestly, it wasn’t until I lost my dad in 2017, a man who was the definition of hard work and “success,” that I realized I’d been sold a lie. We all have.