A mid-year update...
... the invisible work I've accomplished in 2025 so far.
Dear Readers,
Many of you subscribed to my substack when I started writing my book, at the end of 2021 leading into 2022. Back then, we were all hanging on as the pandemic started to ease, and I was in the middle of a career pivot. The next almost-three years put me through the wringer. I had nearly finished the first draft of my book when I had to move across the country to start my dream job. The book was shoved to the back burner as I negotiated the emotional strain of the physical separation from my kids, while preparing for a cross-country move that, truthfully, no one wanted. And days before we were to commit non-refundable tuitions for their schools, I was laid off (along with ten thousand other employees). I spent the rest of summer 2023 and that fall recovering and re-adjusting to life back in “the greatest city in the world,” while also trying to figure out my next professional step. Just when I had pulled some freelancing work together, I nearly died from typhoid and had to start all over, physically and mentally, regaining my strength and my career.
I’ve never been one to leave things to chance, and so for the past year, I’ve been doing my damdest to push that boulder up that hill — and getting nowhere. And yet I’ve been so afraid to let up the pressure, afraid the boulder will roll back down and flatten me to nothing, that I’ve forgotten that there are other hills to climb, other boulders that I can move. What I’m trying to say with this clumsy analogy is that I have not allowed myself to sit with my thoughts. Instead, I’ve become busy with the busy-ness of quotidien concerns — all the end-of-school events and activities, preparing for my eldest to enter high school (!), replacing our fridge, filing our FSA invoices, doctor visits… while also trying to manage a career pivot.
I share this to share that, while on one hand it looks like I have not been productive this year, on the other hand, I realize I have been doing two things: (1) learning self-compassion, which is a lifelong journey for most of us, and (2) doing the deep work of re-engaging with my book.
The first, learning self-compassion, is especially tricky for folks of South Asian culture. For a concise explanation, I share the words of Raina Wadhawan, a South Asian therapist:
“As a South Asian, we often inherit emotional patterns and beliefs from previous generations, including views about our self-worth, gender roles, and family. These patterns can perpetuate cycles of self-neglect, shame, and guilt. Self-compassion involves treating yourself with kindness, especially when faced with challenges, mistakes, or perceived failures. Rather than responding to yourself with judgment, self-compassion encourages a gentler approach—one that fosters emotional well-being. For many South Asians, self-compassion can counterbalance the societal pressures that demand perfection. It involves acknowledging your own limitations, understanding that everyone has moments of weaknesses, and recognizing that these moments do not diminish your self-worth. It is a balance between honoring cultural values and embracing inner empathy.” ~ RAINA WADHAWAN,
I did not grow up in a household with compassion, “self-” or otherwise, and I realize it held — and still holds — me back:
“Self-compassion helps perfectionists soften their self-critical tendencies. Instead of berating themselves for not meeting impossibly high standards, they learn to treat themselves with kindness and understanding. It can also encourage a growth mindset, where individuals see mistakes and failures as opportunities for learning and growth rather than as reflections of their inadequacy.” ~ We Rise Therapy and Wellness
Even now, decades after leaving my childhood home, I still have to battle the feelings of perfectionism and inadequacy that were deeply instilled into my developing psyche at a young age. Doing so involves recognizing when I’m berating myself or internalizing judgement I might be imagining from others, stopping to interrogate the evidence that might support these thoughts, and then using the evidence I’ve compiled to build the counter-argument and prove to myself that I have accomplished a lot already, and am continuing to do so.
Now, imagine having to have this conversation with yourself at least 2-3 times per day. It’s time-consuming and exhausting. But this is what it looks like to fight against the illusory and unattainable goal of perfection… every… damn… day.
I share this to give you something to ponder until my next missive, in which I will give an update on my author journey. Until then, please believe that only you can define what success feels like for yourself, and give yourself the compassion to pursue it on your own terms.
