“Perfectionist.” “Imposter.” “Burned out.”
These words are symptoms of silent but pervasive “never good enough” pandemic — one that leaves many of us shivering in the dark. I know that chill well. Even though I intentionally chose a path aligned with my values, the imposter whisper still shows up. It often carries the voice of an early boss who dismissed anything less than perfect as “Mickey Mouse.” That voice has softened over the years, but its residue still catches me sometimes.
Over time, I’ve shifted my relationship to it, so it reminds me that chasing someone else’s version of “the best” is a reliable way to lose my put dowse the fire inside me. Some days I must consciously accept that my good enough is, in fact, enough.
This tug-of-war with external standards is why I keep hearing quiet confessions lately — shame-tinged whispers – from clients realizing they don’t actually want the next promotion or the weight of managing others. They feel trapped by the belief that stepping off the “logical” path equals failure. Which raises the real question: who gets to decide what your enough looks like?
Being human is tiring. It’s exhausting to try to be everything for everyone. When you’re in the thick of it, it can feel like the wind has shifted and the smoke of expectation is blowing straight into your eyes, obscuring the life you actually want.
In those moments, I try to move sideways. I love campfires, but in late February my wood pile is soaked, and the pit is buried in snow. No roaring fire is happening. Last week I found a baby step that has nudged me out of the smoke toward warmth and charred-marshmallow comfort. I found a campfire-scented oil; one drop on my skin instantly shifts my energy. It doesn’t make spring come faster, but it reminds me I can create a small spark of delight even when the wood is saturated.
That’s the spirit behind my life-design work. Here is a way to picture it: Picture two circles one labelled “Doing It All” on one side and “Meaning and Joy” on the other. They can feel like separate worlds. My work is helping you find the baby steps that bring those circles closer — until they start to overlap. Now it’s a Venn diagram with a shared area for is right for you, for now.
I’m creating a small-group coaching experience for people who are cold and shivering by this pandemic. Together we’ll notice the voices, name the drivers that operate in the dark, and bring them into the light.
You’re not broken. And you’re not alone.
