I unsubscribed from the cult of busy.

My kids like slower me more. Actually, so do I.

“Do you think you’ve slowed down since you’ve moved?” an old neighbour from London asked.

“No, no,” I said defensively.

And to be honest, life with 3-year-old triplets is hectic. The sheer domestic work 3 little humans can create before breakfast is eye-watering.

But now the boxes are all unpacked and the “work” of moving is done there is no doubt things have slowed.

In the morning, I check the weather forecast, then the tide times and plan my day accordingly. Simplicity itself.

So, why does admitting to slowing down feel like failure? Like you’re no longer in the race. No longer a serious contender.

Why do I feel guilty about it?

Because this version of life doesn’t look like the one I used to chase. It doesn’t feel like the race I was trained to run or even value.

The cult of busy

I’m a striver, an over-achiever, a squeezer of one extra thing. Surrender doesn’t come easy. Even on holiday, I like to stay active.

Years ago, my best-friend from Uni, Sam, who lives in a village, came to visit me in a flat in Elephant and Castle - which is basically the main gyratory and transport hub for south London. Pretty much every bus in South London goes through it day and night. It never stops.

I’d planned such a busy itinerary cramming in exhibitions, restaurants and even hipster plant shops. When I gave her the big reveal she said, “Urgh! I’m so over the cult of busy.”

Had I sleep-walked into a cult? Was I addicted without even realising?

The pattern interrupt

My pattern interrupt came due to 3 things this Easter:

1. Rafa (who is going through a very expensive destructive phase at the moment - an hour ago he snapped Nana’s varifocal glasses for no good reason - I’m about to drive her to Boots for emergency repairs!) breaking my phone forcing me to be offline for a couple of weeks

2. The Easter holidays = 20 days of no childcare

3. The first properly hot sunny days since we’ve moved to the beach - I’m talking hot enough for my boys to strip and run into the sea naked.

I’ve always known I hate multitasking - and don’t even get me started on habit stacking - but mum life requires it. Not only that, but it’s the mental load of switching.

I’m responding to social comments whilst my kids eat their pasta. I’m checking my emails whilst potty training. I’m trying to keep on top of the 100+ WhatsApp notifications whilst shouting, “I mean it, clean your teeth now or we’re going to be late.”

I never liked it. But I didn’t think I had a choice.

Now, I’ve stopped.

If people had to wait longer for a reply… so be it.

If the algorithms get pissed off with me…so be it

When a new client complained there were no slots on my calendar until after Easter, I fought the urge to apologise.

The only call I had over Easter was with my coach. On it, I glanced over at the vision board I made 2 years ago and realised I’m pretty much living it.

There’s a picture of me on the beach with my boys, a camper van, a coffee and croissant in the sunshine, yoga on the sand. My life actually looks like that now. And it didn’t happen by accident. It came from having the courage to commit to 4 uncomfortable steps, which I’ll share with you next week.

Yes, it takes courage to make a change, and to slow down and change tracks. Yes it will raise a few eyebrows and some people won’t get it. Damn, you’ll even question it some days because it feels so alien.

My whole life has been about achieving and proving I’m worthy: the Oxford degree, the awards, even the TedX. “Take me seriously,” I begged the world.

My coach asked me last week, what it would feel like if I stopped “proving” and started believing.

So I slowed down. And I’m starting to think that might be the bravest thing I’ve ever done.

Over to you:

If you really let yourself slow down… what would be different?

Notice any resistance that comes up.

If you’re done subscribing to the cult of busy, you’ll feel at home here.

Subscribe below and ditch the mum guilt while you’re at it.