Why you feel lost in a life that looks perfect (and what to do about it)
The career. The partner. The kids. The house. Maybe even the cute dog and the tasteful throw pillows.
You've checked all the boxes.
From the outside, your life looks... enviable, honestly. People probably tell you how lucky you are. How you've "got it all figured out."
But something's off because you’re waking up tired, moving through your days on autopilot. You're literally doing everything right, but it doesn't feel right.
You're succeeding by every external measure, but internally, you feel very stretched. Like you're playing a role in someone else's life.
If that sounds familiar, it’s probably because you're just running on software that's desperately out of date.
The high achiever's trap: when success stops feeling like success
Here's what nobody tells you about being a high-achieving parent: the patterns that made you successful before kids can be the exact things burning you out after.
Think about it. You probably got where you are through sheer force of will. You worked harder than everyone else. You adapted. You pleased people. You controlled outcomes. You said yes to everything because that's what got you promoted, praised, and validated.
Those protective patterns worked. They got you the corner office, the respect, the salary, the life. You got everything you wanted.
But then you had kids.
And suddenly, the people-pleasing, the perfectionism, the need to control everything… became suffocating. Because you can't control a toddler's meltdown. You can't please your boss and your baby at the same time. You can't adapt your way out of sleep deprivation.
The old playbook stops working, but your nervous system doesn't know that yet.
So you keep trying. You optimize your morning routine. You batch tasks. You set boundaries (in theory). You read productivity books at midnight because you're too wired to sleep.
And you still feel like you're drowning.
What happens when your brain can't think its way out anymore
I talked to a coach recently who had what she calls her "sitting on the couch" moment.
COVID lockdown. Three kids under four. Toys and laundry everywhere. A high-powered corporate job she'd built over years. And a mind that was somehow even more chaotic than the living room.
She'd tried everything the "mindset world" throws at high achievers: positive affirmations, reframing, gratitude journaling, better time management. She'd worked with a leadership coach. She'd read all the books.
But sitting there, looking at the mess around her—and feeling the even bigger mess inside her—she had a realization that changed everything:
I can't think my way out of this.
That's the moment when everything shifted. Not because she found a better strategy. Not because she finally got "disciplined enough."
But because she stopped trying to solve an emotional problem with cognitive tools.
Your body knows what your brain keeps ignoring
The thing about being a high achiever is that you're really, really good at being in your head.
You strategize. You plan. You problem-solve. You optimize.
And when things feel off, you assume the answer is to think harder. Be smarter. Find a better framework.
But what if the answer isn't in your head at all?
What if your body's been trying to tell you something for months—maybe years—and you've been too busy planning and optimizing to listen?
That tightness in your chest when you check your work email on Sunday morning? That's not just stress. That's information.
That moment when you realize you've been clenching your jaw through your kid's entire bedtime routine? That's not just tension. That's your nervous system telling you something doesn't fit anymore.
The exhaustion that no amount of sleep seems to fix? That's not laziness. That's your body saying: We need something different here.
But if you've spent your entire adult life being praised for your thinking, your strategic mind, your quick problem-solving, your ability to figure things out, it feels almost insulting to be told the answer isn't intellectual.
Except it's not insulting. It's liberating.
The patterns you need to release
Let's talk about why all those mindset tools you've tried haven't worked.
It's not because you're doing them wrong. It doesn't have anything to do with discipline either.
It's because most mindset work lives in your conscious mind. And your protective patterns? Those live in your subconscious mind. In your nervous system. In your body.
You can journal about boundaries all day long. But if your nervous system learned at age seven that saying no means rejection, your body will override your brain every single time.
You can set an intention to "be more present with your kids." But if your sense of worth is tied to your productivity, your body will flood with anxiety the second you sit down to play Duplo instead of checking your email.
This is why people-pleasing is so hard to break. Why perfectionism feels impossible to shake. Why you can intellectually know you need to rest but still feel guilty every time you try.
Because these aren't just habits. They're survival strategies your nervous system developed to keep you safe.
And you can't think your way out of a survival strategy.
You have to release it. From your body. Where it's stored.
What it actually means to "release" something
Okay, so what does "releasing" even mean?
Because it sounds kind of... mystical. Like you're going to light some sage and chant affirmations at the full moon.
But here's what it actually looks like:
You go into your body. You notice sensations—tightness in your chest, a knot in your stomach, tension in your shoulders. You sit with those sensations instead of immediately trying to fix or analyze them.
And through a guided process (because no, you can't usually do this alone), you trace those sensations back to their source. Back to the moment when your nervous system decided: This is dangerous. I need to protect myself.
Maybe it's the first time you felt rejected. The first time you failed and someone was disappointed. The first time you realized love felt conditional.
Your four-year-old self didn't have the tools to process that. So your nervous system created a workaround: If I'm perfect, they'll love me. If I please everyone, I'll be safe. If I control everything, I won't get hurt.
And that workaround worked for decades.
Until it didn't.
The release happens when you go back to that moment—not intellectually, but somatically, in your body—and feel it. Safely. With support. For 30 to 60 seconds.
That's it. You feel it. And then it dissolves.
Not because you reasoned with it. Not because you reframed it. But because your nervous system finally had permission to let it go.
The question that changes everything: "To what end?"
Once you start releasing those old patterns, something else becomes clear:
You've been working really, really hard. But have you asked yourself why?
Not in a productivity sense. Not "why am I doing this task."
But genuinely: What is all of this work actually for?
Are you working late because it genuinely moves the needle? Or because you've internalized the belief that your worth is tied to your output?
Are you saying yes to every request because you genuinely want to? Or because saying no feels terrifying at a cellular level?
Are you optimizing every minute of your day because it makes you happy? Or because being busy is the only time you feel valuable?
Here's a moment that might feel uncomfortably familiar:
You're on a walk with your toddler. They stop to look at a flower. Then a rock. Then a bug. You're standing there, physically present but mentally sprinting through your to-do list. Checking your watch. Calculating how much time you're "losing."
And then it hits you: She's only going to be this small once. She's only going to want to pick berries with me for a few more years.
All those work emails? They'll still be there tomorrow. Next week. Next month.
But this moment—your daughter's tiny hand in yours, her face lit up by a dandelion—this moment is happening right now. And you're missing it because you can't stop thinking about what you should be doing instead.
That's when you realize: the problem isn't time management.
The problem is that you don't actually know what you're working for anymore.
What if your purpose isn't missing, it's just buried?
There's this pervasive idea in personal development that you need to "find your purpose."
As if it's a treasure buried somewhere and you just need the right map to dig it up.
But what if it's not missing at all?
What if you were born with your purpose, and then life—expectations, conditioning, protective patterns—just layered over it?
Think about yourself as a baby. You had preferences. Things that lit you up. Ways of being that felt natural.
And then the world started telling you what was acceptable. What would keep you safe. What would make you loved.
Don't be too loud. Be helpful. Work harder. Make everyone happy.
Each message became a layer. A shield. Armor to protect you from rejection, failure, disappointment.
Those shields worked. They kept you safe.
But they also buried the part of you that knew—without thinking, without strategizing—what felt right.
Your purpose isn't something you need to find. It's something you need to remember.
And the way you remember? You peel back the layers. You release the patterns. You come home to yourself.
The practice no one talks about: creating intimacy with yourself
Here's the most unsexy, unglamorous truth about all of this:
The fix isn't a new morning routine. It's not a better productivity system. It's not even a vision board (though sure, make one if it makes you happy).
The fix is creating space.
Actual, physical, intentional space where you're not working. Not parenting. Not performing.
Space where you can hear yourself think. Where you can feel what you actually feel instead of what you think you should feel.
For high achievers, this is the hardest thing in the world.
Because you've been praised your whole life for doing. For achieving. For producing. For being busy.
And now someone's telling you the answer is to... stop?
Not forever. Just for a minute.
To take a yoga class and not treat it like cardio. To go for a run without tracking your pace. To bake banana bread not because you need banana bread, but because starting something and finishing it in one hour feels grounding when everything else in your life is perpetually unfinished.
It doesn't matter what the activity is. What matters is that you're doing it without a goal. Without measuring. Without trying to optimize or improve.
You're just... being. In your body. Connected to yourself.
It sounds simple. It's not easy.
But it's the difference between living your life and performing it.
When "having it all" still isn't enough
If you're reading this and thinking, But I do have a good life. I should be grateful—you're right.
And also: those two things can both be true.
You can be grateful for what you have and feel like something's missing.
You can love your kids and feel lost in motherhood.
You can be successful and feel empty.
The problem isn't that you're ungrateful. The problem is that you fundamentally changed when you became a parent, but you're still trying to operate like the person you were before.
That old version of you—the one who could work 60-hour weeks and still have energy for happy hour? She doesn't exist anymore.
The person you are now needs different things. Values different things. Finds fulfillment in different places.
But if you never create space to ask what those things are, you'll just keep running the old playbook. Wondering why you feel so exhausted. So disconnected. So... not quite yourself.
Your body's been waiting for you to listen
The exhaustion you feel isn't laziness.
The overwhelm isn't because you're doing it wrong.
The feeling that something's off isn't because you're broken or ungrateful.
It's your body trying to get your attention. Trying to tell you that who you were before kids and who you need to be now? They're not the same person.
And that's not a failure. It's an invitation.
An invitation to stop trying to think your way into happiness. To stop optimizing your way into fulfillment. To stop performing your way into peace.
And instead? To come home to yourself.
To listen to what your body's been trying to tell you. To release the patterns that don't fit anymore. To remember who you actually are underneath all the conditioning and all the armor.
You don't need to find your purpose. You just need to peel back the layers that are hiding it.
You don't need to do more. You need to create space to be more.
And you don't need another framework. You need to feel again.
That's the work. And it's worth it.
Want to hear more about identity recalibration, somatic work, and coming home to yourself?
This conversation came from my podcast episode with Fiona Walsh, a coach and creator of the Inner Freedom Method. We went deep on what it means to release protective patterns, why your overwhelm isn't your fault, and how to stop running on old wiring that doesn't fit who you've become.