I’ve been thinking about how much of our lives we continue to organise around decisions we made years ago. Not necessarily the big, life-changing ones, but all those smaller decisions that gradually became part of who we are. The responsibilities we accepted, the expectations we agreed to meet and the things we took on because they made perfect sense at the time.
And then, somewhere along the way, we changed. Our interests shifted, our ambitions evolved and things that once mattered enormously became less important. We began wanting something different from our days, our work and even from ourselves. Yet somehow, much of our lives continued to run according to the original plan.
It’s rather extraordinary when you think about it. We can spend years developing as people while continuing to make decisions based on a woman we haven’t been for quite some time.
When being good at something becomes the reason you keep doing it
I spent more than 25 years in leadership and executive roles, making decisions, solving problems and taking responsibility. I loved the complexity of it. Give me a difficult situation and my brain will start rearranging the pieces before anyone has finished explaining the problem. It still does, whether I’ve been invited to help or not.
For years, that instinct served me well. But it also taught me to step in whenever I knew the answer, often before considering whether the problem was actually mine to solve. I’ve since learned that knowing what to do and being the person who needs to do it are two very different things.
You know this feeling. You’ve spent years becoming the person everyone can rely on. Your judgement is trusted, your experience is valued and people know you’ll find a way forward. It’s a reputation you’ve earned, and one you have every reason to be proud of.
But there’s a catch. The better you become at handling things, the more people bring you. And the more you accept, the less anyone, including you, questions whether you still want that responsibility.
You can become so good at being the person everyone needs that you forget to consider what you need yourself.
The expectations we helped create
Other people don’t necessarily keep up when our priorities change. They still see the woman they’ve always known.
To be fair, we’ve spent years giving them every reason to think that way.
I still catch myself mentally working through a solution to a problem that nobody has actually asked me to solve. It’s almost impressive how quickly I can turn someone else’s situation into my own responsibility.
These days, I listen first. Even when I know exactly how I’d handle a situation, I don’t rush to provide the answer. I’ve learned to be the last person to speak rather than the first. It gives other people the opportunity to think, take responsibility and find their own solutions.
Try this the next time someone brings you a problem, whether it’s at work, at home or with someone you love. Before offering your solution, ask what they’ve already considered and what they think needs to happen. Then listen.
It’s particularly difficult with the people we love. We want to help, protect them from making mistakes and save them the trouble of figuring everything out themselves. And when we can see the solution so clearly, keeping quiet requires a surprising amount of self-discipline.
But here’s what I’ve learned. People don’t always need your answer, even when it’s a good one. Sometimes they need to talk things through, make their own decisions or simply know you’re listening.
You can care deeply about someone without taking responsibility for solving their problems.
Changing that habit has made me realise something else. The expectations we live under aren’t always imposed by other people. We are the ones keeping them alive.
You probably still have people around you who expect you to be the woman you’ve always been. But how often are you expecting exactly the same thing from yourself?
The cost of continuing as before
I’m proud of the woman who worked hard, raised a family, built a career and took on responsibilities that weren’t always easy. Those years shaped me, and I wouldn’t erase them.
Some of the most meaningful changes in my own life haven’t involved dramatic decisions. They’ve come from recognising what I no longer want to spend my time doing.
An opportunity can look excellent on paper and still be completely wrong for the life I want today. A responsibility can be well within my capabilities without being something I want to accept. And something I would once have dismissed as unproductive can turn out to be precisely how I want to spend an afternoon.
I still have to remind myself of that last one occasionally. Apparently, decades of being productive don’t disappear simply because you’ve decided to become a little more sensible about your time 😅
But there’s a cost to continuing as before, and it’s not always obvious.
You can have a full calendar, a successful career and a life that looks perfectly good from the outside, while having very little room for the things that now matter most to you. The cost isn’t necessarily that something goes wrong. It’s that everything continues to work well enough for you never to question it.
The woman making your decisions today
At 55, I’m very aware that time is the one thing I can’t earn back. I’ve spent enough years filling my days with things that needed doing. Now I’m far more interested in making sure there’s room for the things I actually want to do. And that requires making some decisions differently, even when the old way would be easier.
Today I ask these questions before taking on something that requires my time, energy or commitment. They’re simple, but the answers aren’t always comfortable.
Is this actually my responsibility?
Or have I taken it on because I’m the person who usually gets things done?Would I choose this today?
Forget what made sense ten or twenty years ago. Does it still make sense for the life I want now?
What am I saying no to by saying yes?
Every commitment takes time from somewhere. What am I giving up by agreeing?
Do I want this, or do I just want to be seen as someone who does it?
There’s a difference between making a conscious choice and maintaining a reputation.
What would I advise someone I care about to do?
We’re often much better at recognising what other people need than applying the same judgement to our own lives.
You don’t need to question every little decision. But the ones that determine how you spend your days deserve more than an automatic yes.
The woman you were twenty years ago made decisions based on the life she was building then. Those decisions served their purpose.
Now make sure the woman you are today gets a say.
