Who am I if I’m not following a To-Do List?
Without something to cross off, another task to conquer, or the challenge to complete everything I set out to do – do I even have an identity? A reason to move forward?
For years, I have used To-Do Lists to keep me focused and remind me of all that needs to be done. It’s a means to unburden my brain from having to remember to pick up my dry cleaning.
I use my To-Do List as a form of stress relief.
I consult my To-Do List like psychic, as if it can tell me my future. I confide in my To-Do List like a therapist, telling it all that is on my mind.
Occasionally, I misplace my To-Do List, but I don’t panic. As I am happy to make another!
The satisfaction I feel by both making the list, and the gratification that courses through my veins when I get to cross something off fill my brain with happiness. (I’m a Crosser-Offer, not a Checker-Offer. Yes, there is a difference.)
Unfortunately, an earlier version of myself used To-Do Lists to track my toxic productivity and fuel my productivity anxiety.
Download my free, ridiculously cool To Do List template here.
My Life in Bullet Points
My brain seems to naturally narrate my life in bullet points.
- Wake up.
- Drink water.
- Take medication.
- Let the dogs out.
- Answer that email that I have been avoiding for three weeks.
Oh! Do you think I actually complete (ahem, Cross Off) my To-Do List? That it makes me efficient and/or productive?
While I’m not as interested in actually being busy and over-scheduled, I admit I make my To-Do Lists intentionally long and seemingly overwhelming. It makes me feel busy. It makes me feel productive. It allows me to do away with those feelings of guilt that creep in.
I’ve let go of the need to finish the whole list. (More on that later.)
In the past, like so many other women, I stapled my worth to my output. (Thanks Hustle Culture!) I used busyness as a coping mechanism to avoid dealing with my feelings or copious amounts of pressure. I believed that being busy equals being valuable. Dashing from task on the To-Do List to the next, barely registering that satisfaction of finishing something.
Toxic Productivity: When My To-List Stopped Being Useful
As a people-pleasing perfectionist busyness and taking on responsibility were like drugs. My To-Do List acted more as a burden because it was filled with things that I didn’t want to do, need to do, or like to do.
There was no room for fun or spontaneity because my To-Do List wouldn’t dare hold itself accountable to those concepts that were deemed unproductive by the National Society of To-Do Lists bylaws. (Not a real organization, though my To-Do List would join and adhere to their strictest standards.)
At some point, my To-Do List morphed from a tool into a tyrant. A passive-aggressive roommate with a Hustle Culture superiority complex. Every item became a silent judgment: “Why haven’t you done this yet?”
There were no gold stars. No dopamine rewards. Just the looming threat of failure.
My To-Do List fueled my martyr-like, people-pleasing mindset with thoughts like, “If you don’t do it, no one will.”
Gasp! No one? That poor task will be left undone – or even worse! – completed exactly the way I would not have done it.
The emotional weight of performing productivity for others was the thing I found overwhelming.
How to Make a To-Do List That Destroys Your Soul
There were warnings everywhere that I chose to ignore (another coping mechanism) that eventually my To-Do List would wrap itself around my neck and cut off my oxygen supply.
For example:
- I would ask myself if I wasn’t productive, was I really alive?
- There was an emptiness associated with “Done” or “Complete.”
- The idea that there wasn’t enough paper for my To-Do List because I could always be doing more.
- I never made time or room to just think.
- Some random societal expectation that pushed me to believe that fun was earned if I finished my List.
How to Figure Out What Actually Matters
Part of my burnout recovery journey was learning how to do less, which my brain initially interpreted as losing control. I found myself thinking about how to “relax efficiently.” I combed the internet for a formula to calculate the number of tasks that should be completed before I should allow myself to have fun.
It was a conversation with the most irresponsible and unaccountable person I knew that made me realize that I didn’t think of myself as a person – I thought of myself as a productivity machine. They pointed out that despite their disorganization and preference to have fun first, they always manage to get things done.
“How in the hell was this possible?” I wondered. Aloud.
My now seemingly irresponsible and unaccountable friend told me about this “bizarre” concept called figuring out priorities. I appeared to lack them.
Redefining What Counts
So, I did something radical.
I stopped measuring my day by how many things I could cross off…
…and started asking what actually mattered.
Not to society. Not to the imaginary CEO of All Women Who Must Always Be Doing Something.
To me.
The very next day, at the top of my To-Do List: Get some priorities.
A part of this journey was also revamping the purpose of my To-Do List. It became a tool to help me focus on my priorities.
I decided it wasn’t about finishing everything on my List. In fact, since I was no longer using fun and rest as motivation to finish anything, it makes no sense to strive toward completion as a positive sign of productivity. (I admit that my brain won’t commit to doing something healthy with that.)
That sense of fulfillment and satisfaction comes from better sources – fun, play, and laughter.
The three things I require of myself everyday:
- Connect with someone I care about. (Dogs count.)
- (It provides mental clarity.)
- Say no to at least one thing. (It makes room for the fun.)
Then, as I Cross Off each of these items, I pause feel that gratification coursing through my veins.
BONUS: Affirmations
Permission to Rest:
Rest is not a reward. It’s a right.
I don’t have to earn my rest – even if my to-do list disagrees.
Permission to Be Spontaneous:
Joy doesn’t need to be scheduled. I can choose fun just because I want to.
I give myself permission to do something unexpected, unproductive, and fun.
Permission to Laugh:
Laughter is my therapy.
Find humor in everything.
