To my darling daughter,
I wish I wasn’t always rushing around, busy with shopping, cooking, washing, helping the boys with homework, arguing, nagging, negotiating with dad, working, studying, counselling friends, helping others and running myself ragged. I wish I didn’t snap.
I wish I hadn’t let my diary explode with stuff that stressed me out till I couldn’t even smile at your “Knock Knock” jokes. I wish I didn’t yell all sorts of things I didn’t mean. And I wish I didn’t let myself get worked up till I exploded and we collapsed in tears.
I wish I didn’t get consumed by FOMO every time I checked Facebook to see everybody having more fun than me. I wish I hadn’t been a Busy Bee, a slave, a machine, work-horse and worse.
It’s okay not to follow me down this track. It might be a first world problem, but the Busy Bees of our mind can make us feel rotten.
At best we’re always tired and emotional. At worst we’re overweight, stressed, anxious and depressed.
I used to wear Busy Bee as a badge of honour. We all did. Most of my friends in fact. Like the corporate lawyer with the exotic life who travels the world, but is always rushed and feeling pudgy. Or my 40-year-old executive buddy with two teenage kids, working full time while doing an MBA instead of sleeping, jogging in her lunch break and wondering why she’s so teary. There’s my fitness trainer mate who’s trying to quit sugar while running a cleaning business with injuries that never heal. Why?
In my mum’s generation, it was the “Protestant Work Ethic”. Grandma is still sometimes too busy to chat. She cleans the oven while she’s still using it and starts washing the dishes while we’re still swallowing dinner. She never makes time to lie on the couch with a novel.
She’s busy with charity work, church work, volunteer work, gardening, kitten caring, grand-parenting, emailing and housekeeping. OMG! Lucky she’s not on Facebook.
Sorry. I, too, was the busiest bee. But I’ve stopped. Now I understand why.
Dr Libby Weaver, biochemist and women’s health expert, calls it ‘Rushing Women’s Syndrome’.
She says Rushing Women’s Syndrome is the biochemical effect of always being in a rush. And urgent rushing is unhealthy for us.
A Rushing Woman needs a daily coffee fix, constantly says how busy she is, has high levels of stress hormones, sugar cravings, tired but wired, no time for self, checks her phone, texts and Facebook constantly, sleeps too little, always looks for more ways to feel loved or praised and can’t say no but feels guilty if she does.
Weaver says we do all this stuff because we are in “relentless pursuit to never feel rejected.”
Sound familiar?
But it’s not our fault. This need to be loved is hardwired in us from birth. It’s a survival mechanism to get adults to care for us.
But when we’re all grown up, we can let it go. It’s not easy, but it’s worth it. Once we accept that we are perfect, gorgeous, wonderful women and learn to love ourselves, we can make simple, if somewhat difficult, changes to prevent busy-bee syndrome. Let’s bin this badge of honour.
Lets’ swap self-less for self-love so we can make the most of everyday and share more joy.
For me it’s been a big mindset shift. I’ve had to prioritise me. I’ve learned to say ‘no’ to things that are bad for my health like sitting for 8 hours, drinking a bottle of red, or doing everybody’s washing. And ‘no’ to things that bring loathing like devouring a tub of Gelato or a packet of Tim Tams. And ‘yes’ to things that make me joyous like a sunrise walk, riding along the beach, yoga, meditating under a tree or strolling in the park, even when I’m busy.
My beautiful daughter, I know you sometimes roll your eyes when I suggest an ocean swim instead of wine, or a sunset hike instead of pizza. But it’s fun. Diving into a challenging physical adventure in nature with loved ones brings pure joy. Yes, it’s busy, but this busy-ness relieves stress because it’s about nurturing ourselves. Then we can love others.
So, don’t wait another 30 years to learn this lesson my darling daughter. Loving yourself by nurturing your health is the best insurance policy money can’t buy to ensure that others can love you and you them. And, most importantly, so you can love yourself. Because you are enough.
Just don’t get so busy you can’t see it.
Love, Mum