On overgiving
Why, as midlife women we (read: me) MUST stop doing quite so much for everyone, all the time.
I sit and type from a vanity unit of a person’s house who means a lot to me.
Someone who I overgive to. They don’t ask me to, but I do. Ironing, cooking, shopping.
Then I feel resentful if it’s not sufficiently recognised.
My name is Rachel and I am an over giver.
In my marriage, I overgave. I’m not sure when it started, because when we both worked in ours 20s, pre kids, we both did about the same. Sure, every now and then I would blitz the house, but my now ex was pretty good: he cooked all the time, as much as I did, and he was capable with a hoover, even if he chose to rarely utilise these skills. When I had my son, even, I remember us both doing quite a bit. I chose to return to work, but then when the time for nursery came, I realised putting my kid in daycare wasn’t something that felt good to me, and so I decided to become a ‘stay at home mum’, documenting my journey - and my meals, mostly - on my blog at the time, and then my Youtube (which is where many of you know me from).
The dynamic changed: stay at home mum > working dad. This came with it an assumption (a fairly fair one, to be fair!) that I would do the lion’s share of domestic duties - and so I set to work! I loved it. We only had a small terrace, one baby, and an old cat, so it was very manageable.
But times change, and more babies come and more pets too. 3 kids and 5 pets, to be exact. Terrace became 5 bed farmhouse with separate annex. Lucky us, right? Sure, 100%. So lucky, so blessed.
The work increased. Five-fold. My husband’s career also five-folded. Again, fabulous. So grateful. But my capacity didn’t increase, if anything it plateaued, fairly comfortably, when I was in my early 30s at 2 kids, 1 dog and 2 cats, but now? Now we had 3 kids, 2 cats, 2 dogs, and a rabbit (sadly now deceased, RIP Beau). Aged about 40, at ‘max capass’ as they say, I hit a wall. It was all, finally, too much. And yes, by the way, it was ME who wanted a 3rd child; ME who wanted a Lab, ME who founds the cats on the free ads; then ME who acquiesced to having a pug, oh and also the rabbit… and, yes, prior to that - it was ME who found the 15th century derelict farmhouse renovation project that nearly killed us both. (And is still not finished!!)
I wanted this. All of this. Or should I say, my 35 year old self wanted this. With energy, overflow of love and a deep passion for family life and for children, and animals, and a dream to live in the country surround by both… I have always had, as they say, eyes bigger than my belly!
Back to when I was about 40 and the wheels coming off: my eldest had been diagnosed with ADHD, and subsequently, so had I. (The pediatrician politely asked me over the desk, as I interrupted her incessantly and generally acted like Tigger on Tizer, May I ask, have you ever been tested…?).
So, ADHD. Then, perimenopause. My PMS became PMD almost overnight. The inability to cope manifested in rage, tearfulness, self medication when I would overdo it on booze in an effort to connect/escape/become ‘me again’.
Putting a mask on, in the form of being a perfect mum, became my sticking plaster. I wasn't faking it - I kind of was a perfect mum, and my job was now to make content about that on YouTube for money!
I was burning out. I also found out at the time that I had a benign brain tumor - but shrugged it off as only being relevant as it caused me to have irregular ovulation, and seeing as we didn’t want to have any more kids (read: he didn’t; I always wanted more - of everything!), I forgot about it. Since found out that my pituitary tumor does indeed cause fatigue, depression, and all the fun things. And it could also interfere with all the HRT I am making, rendering it ineffective! (Current explorations are ongoing with that, will report back soon!)
Being a Virgo Sun with a Taurus Moon, my entire nature is to give, be of service, at home. Virgos are perfectionists, they will sort your life out, they live for that shit. Taurus are grounded, they love home, they love making things steady and safe.
I was perfect. It was perfect. Until the quiet rage at rarely everbeing recognised for my acts of service (my love language - towards others) or sufficiently appreciated, began to eat away at my soul. It felt unfair. I was drowning. Way over max capacity, but everyone around me was flying and I was having to sleep in the afternoon, my social circle shrinking, my career now in total confusion, with no energy or time for anything, I became increasingly depressed. And yet, wasn’t I the girl who had everything?
As my husband’s career flew, mine shrank. The YouTube and blog didn’t feel aligned anymore. The neurodivergent diagnosis, the perimenopause, my sober curious journey - and the acknowledgment of some trauma that I hadn’t addressed. They all led me to train in yoga, become passionate about self care, and also gain a holistic life coach qualification, then an embodiment coach training - as well as train in reiki, invest in a huge essential oil collection and learnt about aromatherapy… I was changing.
I was learning about what it means to be in your power, to heal, to face things that your scared of and to do this in community, learning somatic tools and becoming empowered - reconnecting with my spirituality and allowing all of my weird whimsical woo-woo-ness to explode into life. I guess I was unmasking. I was also learning about embodying my own femininity. There is a paradox here: I had ALWAYS asserted, much to other people’s annoyance, that you cannot ‘have it all’. I had always leaned towards the old fashioned way of one parent, let’s face it, most likely the mum, as we are born that way, to be nurturers, carers etc) is better off at home or being the primary carer. You cannot be the perfect mum and the big career woman. You just can’t do it. Unless you have a nanny or someone doing all the other never ending STUFF. Someone is picking up the clothes, someone is picking up from school, someone is cooking, scrubbing the loos, etc etc. Never mind the emotional load and don’t forget to keep your marriage spicy!!! To do all this - and then forge a business or storm your way up the boardroom table? Impossible. Not an opinion. A FACT.
Men and women are different. Men are hard wired to hunt, protect and provide. Women are cyclical beings. We have seasons of energy, and seasons where we should rest. We are designed to feed, to care, cuddle, nurture and nest. That’s just how it is. Work if we decide to do it for remuneration, should fit around these things. We still have so far to go in this area. Flexibility at work for home working, menopause awareness, even period awareness. Can you imagine if men bled out of their assholes and were in mental and physical pain every 20-28 days? Geez. You better believe there would be supportive structures in place! Feminism has failed our generation. We were told, do it all, be it all, have it all. But we can’t do that. It’s literally not possible. Given our inherent nature, our bodies, our femininity. We should celebrate these differences. We should support women, in their homes, in their motherhood.
So how does this relate to over giving? Well, in an attempt to have/do/be it all, we overgive. We chair the PTA, we start the business, AND then we still cook, clean and pick up way more than the men do. Then the man who smashes his career out of the park gets praised, respected, heralded as a hero. He cannot do all this stuff without the women doing the majority of the other stuff, but it’s never talked about. WTAF.
It becomes a battle as to who is more tired. So, we stop picking up. The house becomes a bomb site within minutes. If you are OK with that, awesome. But I hate it. It stresses me out visually, as despite being ADHD I am also (pretty sure, not yet fully assessed) Autistic, and so visual cleanliness and order is important to me.
I have noticed, since I no longer live in the aforementioned farmhouse, that it is so messy when I go around, and so I clean it - for money! It’s not even the cleaning that is required, which is where so many men don’t understand (let’s just get a cleaner or increase her hours, they say) but it’s the processing, picking up, sorting out - and cleaners just can’t do that. They don’t know where the holey socks go, the numerous squishies, or the piles of bills/school letters etc. They can’t sort washing because everyone’s socks are the same size now!
So, we overgive, because who else is going to do it? And, damn in, I WANTED THIS. We put up and shut up. The neural pathway is now less well-trodden-path in a wheatfield, more M1. It’s made of cement. It’s the busiest route in our brain. Through years of conditioning and seeing our mums do exactly the same.
And it’s not just for the kids/family… As I started this post, I mention that I find myself doing it again, when it’s just not required. I think I do it as an act of service - this is how I express my love. We are praised for over giving though aren’t we? A bit like being a workaholic, it’s everyone’s preferred addiction. (If we’re lucky) we get positive feedback. Look, maybe it is unhealthy but I cannot deny, it is an act of love in itself, it really is how I express my care and appreciation and love for you, I do stuff. I cook, make your bed, fold your clothes. See, I love you. I don’t know what else to do.
Maybe I dont trust my abilities to show it in other ways. Since realizing I am most likely AuDHD, I see that I do have limitations, struggles, and ways that I mask. This is almost maybe a compensatory mechanism: if I am perfect in this way, maybe you wont notice all the ways I am not, all the ways I fall short. I am a people pleaser, for sure. As SO many women are. The story behind that is always the same: please love me. Ergo, you feel that you are not enough. It’s fucking always that isn’t it? Can’t I at least be original?! It’s always: I am not enough. This is what is behind most of our weird-ass human behavior.
The outcome of trying to over give, over please - is it so bad? As, to be honest I am finding it really hard to stop.
Let’s brainstorm, together:
We set barometers that are unrealistic, and also, unfair, imbalanced - this leads to burnout and lack of reciprocation from others
We sell ourselves short and don’t allow others to do things for us - which is selling them short, too
We set a bad example to our kids, especially our daughters - but also, our sons - i.e. women are here to serve
We stay in the highly anxious place of watchfulness, which is not relaxing place to be: we are hyper vigilant as to when they will notice, when they will say something - and when it doesn’t happen, it causes upset
We deserve better. We deserve to be looked after. We deserve to receive. By being in over giving as our default, we never learn to let go and allow others to love us like we love them
Love is a verb, they say. I over-verb. I over-do. All because I want love. All because I want to feel like I am enough. Like I am lovable.
The only person who can truly give that feeling to you... is, you guessed it, YOU.
That's why I became so passionate about self care (not fluffy stuff, though that is important, too - get the nails done, go to the posh hair salon, even it takes you over your overdraft!? SURE! LOL!) but the hard kind. Boundaries. Stopping yourself over giving. Knowing you’re innately lovable, you’re innately enough.
Take yourself away, surround yourself with other women on a similar journey, maybe a few years on from you so you can soak up their baddass-ness. (Check out my retreat in Jan)…
I am not saying, stop caring for people in acts of service. Let’s face it, I will / can never do this, it’s a big part of what makes me, me. Just, occasionally, sit back a bit. Let someone else, hell ASK someone else, to empty the dishwasher (that includes you, too, kids!!!). Get a cleaner to lighten the load, ask for help from that friend/your uncle/neighbour. Give others a beat before you jump in to arrange, organise, and sort everything. Stop controlling the outcome. Stop forcing patterns that might ease a little if you soften, step back - and embody your innate worthiness.
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