You’re not a superhero so stop beating yourself up

Feeling burned out, disorganised and tired of the treadmill? Laura Williams, school leadership coach, trainer and SBL podcast host shares some words of wisdom to help you get back on track.

Read the full article below or on page 14 in our Summer magazine.

For much of last year, I felt like I was stuck on a treadmill that kept randomly speeding up and throwing me off until I fell on my face before sucking me right back on – doomed to repeat the same old cycle over and over.

As you may already know, on my worst days I’m a perfectionist, people-pleasing procrastinator – which is some of the ugliest soup there is. So when I start missing deadlines, breaking promises and generally falling behind (something completely out of character for me), my first instinct is to cut, run and hide under my duvet.
 
It’s fair to say that I spent a lot of last year anxious and overwhelmed and, to top it off, embarrassed and ashamed that I felt that way.

Working from home by myself all day just made it feel that much worse. There was no one to call me out on my crap and help me to face what I was feeling head on.

How had I got here? What did I miss? How did I let it get this bad? Why wasn’t I better? How come I wasn’t coping?

I was meant to be good at all this, right?!
 
Then I felt so bad about feeling bad (of course) that I just kept apologising as I really didn’t know what else to say.

Literally, every email was like ‘I’m so sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner’ or ‘I’m so sorry I missed this’ or ‘I’m so sorry I didn’t get this to you on time’ or ‘I’m sorry that I’ve not done that yet’… (I’m sorry if you got one of these!)

After I moved house, I told myself that things would be better, I would be better, I could start afresh. But, within days, I was back on the treadmill and smacking myself in the face.
 
Even though everyone was so understanding and lovely – SBLs, family, friends… everyone –  I just couldn’t break the torturous cycle.

And then just when things were coming to a head, two lovely SBLs replied to two separate, desperate emails with some very kind and wise replies…
 
The first one started… ‘Please don’t apologise…’
 
And the second one said… ‘We are in this with you. You are human.’
 
These two emails, along with many others, and some very honest and lovely conversations reminded me of the advice that I had given you.
 
Of course, I give this advice on my best days… but on my worst days, I clearly don’t have the capacity to give myself the proverbial kick up the behind!
 
But you know what, I had you to do it for me. And I can’t thank you enough for that.
 
Here’s what you reminded me of.
 
Being unorganised, being behind, not being able to deliver what I promised, not being there when I said I would… these things don’t make me a failure.
 
Sure, I might be struggling but then, hey, I’m human right? 
 
I can’t control everything so I should give up trying. Change what I can and accept what I can’t.
 
I can’t be a superhero all of the time so why set myself up to believe that I can and beat myself up when I can’t meet my own ridiculous expectations?! 
 
Because whose expectations are they? Mine. Not anybody else’s. And I can reset them any time I like!
 
The job of a SBL is lonely as it is. We shouldn’t isolate ourselves even more when we need each other the most. We shouldn’t run away and hide when we should be running towards each other. 

I know why we do this.

We do it subconsciously to avoid judgement and criticism and shame but that’s why we should make a conscious choice to take conscious action.
 
Reach out.
 
If you’re feeling that you’re drowning right now and that nobody sees you, then know this – you have people around you who care, who want to help. People who, if you give them even the smallest of glimpses of what’s going on, will not only step towards you, they will stand next to you and give you the shoulder you need to lean on until you feel strong enough to stand alone again.
 
You’ve got this. I’ve got this too. Together, we can get through anything.