Pressure.

It’s becoming increasingly apparent to me just how results driven I am. And you’d presume this is a good thing, right? But no, it’s not.

I built a business young.

I’ve survived high-pressure situations.

And therefore, I’ve spent the most pivotal years of my adolescence attaching meaning, safety, identity and self-worth to outcomes. Problem being, many of these outcomes are often completely out of my control…

Revenue.

Growth.

Productivity.

Forward movement.

Achievement.

External proof.

So naturally, my nervous system adapted to:
‘If I’m producing results, I’m valuable. If I’m progressing, I’m worthy.’

Not good.
Not good at all.

It’s a mindset that has the ability to foster extraordinary results, yes, but its downfall is a weight I’ve carried around on my back like a lifetime of regret I’ll drag to my fucking grave.

I can’t rest without feeling guilty. Slow and steady feels like failure. And worst of all, my mood is heavily dictated by metrics, money, productivity, validation and tangible results.

I’ve managed to gain control over this cycle using meditation. Sometimes exercise helps too, but honestly, the only way I’ve truly tapped out of this mental game I play with myself is by closing my eyes, placing a hand on my heart and having a fucking good talking-to with my spirit. Reminding myself of all the reasons I hold value in this world…

It’s harder than I’d like it to be though, ya know? Listing fucking traits like they’re a grocery list.

Okay Tess, so you are…

Friendly.

Open minded.

Kind.

Funny.

Ummmm… a good friend, sister and aunty..???

I mean come the fuck on.
Why is that so hard?
I’m like a child getting told she did well in her first maths test.

I feel belittled… but by myself!

And this is exactly my problem.

I’m so good at fishing out compliments for those around me, never short of praise, love and light. Yet when it comes to myself, I find it extremely difficult to look in the mirror and say:

‘You are enough, Tessa. Right here, right now, as you are.’

I will admit the self-love ebbs and flows. Yet again, I’ve begun to notice that I love myself the most when I feel like I’m succeeding. And I feel like I’m succeeding when my physical world is reaping the benefits of my hard labour.

I’m like a fisherman who only praises himself on a good day’s catch… which happens what, once a week if he’s lucky?

This is not a cycle with legs to grow. It’s not systematic, nor built for longevity. This is sprinting at its finest. Bursts of momentum followed by huge lows as I crash and burn before regaining my strength and readying myself for the next hundred metres.

I’ve always been like this too. And fuck man, I really thought I’d been doing the work to tackle it. Building slower momentum driven by small and discreet implementation. But here I sit on my beachfront balcony, beer in one hand and dart in the other, cursing to the fucking night sky as if I’ve lost a million dollars.

I don’t have time to wait!
I’ve been waiting for 29 fucking years!!!
Are you even listening to me?!

Honestly, maybe I’m crazy.
But no, don’t worry, I asked my therapist and she confirmed … somehow I’m not.

We simply live in a world that relies on external validation and money to hand out medals of success. And whether I like it or not, some days my mind still falls into society’s trap and throws shade at me like a loser standing at the finish line.

Such as human existence though, right?

We spend so much time convincing ourselves what is worth living for, what is worth waking up for, what makes us purposeful… that when time is ticking and results are not forming, we naturally look in the mirror and think:

‘Well, who the fuck are you then?’

And right now in my life, everything feels results driven.

I’m trying to alter the course of my existence and, as mentioned in previous posts, make up for a lot of lost time. I’m essentially attempting to achieve what most people do in five or six years, within one.

Impossible?
Maybe.

But honestly, with a good plan, it’s actually feasible.
Yet at what compromise…

At some point, I’ll have to take my foot off the gas and accept that the progress I’m making right now is seemingly invisible. That the results may not become tangible for another few years. That the decisions I’m making now depend entirely on a gamble placed on my future self.

Day by day, Tessa.
Not mountain by mountain.

Because the only person looking down on you… is yourself, motherfucker.”

I’m playing a wild game with myself, all day, everyday. So ya know what? I’m going to go play Michael Jackson on full blast, open another beer and dance until my heart feels like it’s falling out of my chest.

Because this is it, isn’t it???

We all just want to feel ALIVE! And results feel like life happening directly in front of us!

So keep moving your chess pieces, it’s only a game against yourself.