There was a season in my life when I measured my days by what I got done —not how I felt; not who I connected with; not whether I moved closer to meaning. Just checkmarks. Tasks. Output. It looked productive from the outside. But inside, I felt like I was running a race with no finish line.
I started to realize that I was tying my worth to “doing.” What I did and how much I did made me worthy. Part of that came from being raised by parents who believed in a strong work ethic. I will always hold that value in high regard and believe in it.
It wasn’t until I was 27 years old and realized I had three jobs—a full-time day job, a server job at a restaurant at night, and a retail job on the weekends—that I wondered, “Why am I working this much?” (Admittedly, the retail job was for the clothing discount, and my whole paycheck went back into the store.) But hard work is a DeSalvo value and identity. If I could get more hours at work, I should take them. That was the encouragement from my Depression-era parents. I never questioned it.
When I moved into management, I swapped the other two jobs for more hours at the third job. I told myself I should work late, make sure I respond to every email and be responsive, help everyone else, and do my work last. I ended up in the hospital with an ulcer. I was trying to perform for my boss, make my parents proud, and prove my worth.
I needed to stop shoulding myself. I needed to pause and ask what my values were and what it meant to be in alignment with them at work and in life. What did it mean to live authentically and wholeheartedly? I was trading authenticity for approval. And my worth and value were only linked to how I performed at work.
Here’s the truth: Your worth isn’t up for negotiation. It doesn’t rise and fall with your inbox count or your calendar chaos. It isn’t defined by how quickly you answer, how flawlessly you execute, or how many plates you keep spinning. It’s not a badge of honor to be busy.
That’s the “productivity myth.” And breaking free from it begins with one powerful idea: You don’t have to earn your place.
Let’s breathe that in for a second.
The dangers of tying self-worth to doing run deep.
“Doing” leads to guilt when we rest and burnout when we don’t. And it causes anxiety when we think we haven’t done “enough”—even if no one can define what “enough” is.
But you’re not a machine. You’re a human being —not a human doing. Your value isn’t in the visible evidence of busyness. It’s in your presence: Your kindness. Your integrity. Your care.
So, how do we stop shoulding ourselves?
We start by noticing when should shows up. Does it sound like an obligation or aspiration? Is it coming from your own values or someone else’s expectations?
Next, we practice saying no—not just to tasks but to the belief that doing more makes us better.
And then we begin choosing from a place of wholeness—not fear or comparison but clarity.
Some call this reclaiming our inner compass, because once we start living from the inside out, not the outside in, the shoulds lose their grip.
Here’s what I’ve learned: Pausing is productive. Boundaries are brave. And rest is resistance to the myth that we must always be proving ourselves.
So, if you’re staring down a to-do list today, ask yourself this: Which of these things actually aligns with what matters to me? Which of these am I doing because I think I should?
And then choose what brings you closer to your values, not just your goals.
Your worth is not a reward for how much you do. It’s already here in who you are.
