I once spent an entire Saturday shooting a single, 60-second video 58 times.

When I first started my coaching business, I made a short video to look for practice clients. I felt good about it. But because my nervous system associated "getting it wrong" with feeling unsafe, I sent it to some friends to ask for feedback.

Every person pointed out something different to me, that was effectively 'wrong' with the video. "You are not smiling enough." "To be honest, that's too much eye contact." "You aren't giving enough eye contact." "Mmmm....You sound a bit fake." "Why don't you wear a brighter top?"

Paralysed at the wheel and desperate to get it just right, I went back to the camera. Another 58 times. I lost my entire Saturday, wiped out my energy, and ended the weekend in total depletion. Then, the version I was finally happy with (it was just perfect), had a glitch in the software, unsyncing my lips to the sound. 😂 Even asking a friend to correct it, couldn't salvage the piece. I had to settle for version 57, where I had a minor stumble on a word, as I watched a peer upload her perfectly imperfect video saying 's&it' and 'f@ck' watching their post get hundreds of participants.

Of course this wasn't about the video at all, but about my old survival mechanism running the show. Like many deeply responsible, high-performing and conscientious professionals, who have learned to be the master of perfect capability, I learned early on that being perfect, solving problems, and over-delivering made me valued and safe.

I now recognise that micromanaging every shift in the wind has been the silent killer of my capacity and has sunk my boat under a mountain of invisible load. But this week, I made a very different decision….

I was asked to record three snippet videos for a project. 'Old me' would have cleared the decks and braced for the storm. But instead, I chose to practice exactly what I teach: internal safety and regulation. I anchored myself in my own center of gravity, decided that my raw brilliance was entirely enough, and dropped my oars of perfectionism.

Guess how many takes each one took me? One. I recorded them once, hit send, and kept my weekend.

Of course I haven’t completely broken out of the over-functioning cycle. It’s a daily practice. But I have decided that my energetic capacity matters more than a flawless performance for which I am accused of coming across robotic anyway. The sky didn't fall, and I actually have space to breathe.

I used to think the solution to my exhaustion was a better time-management tool, a new productivity hack, or more self development. A future version of me that will help me carry the weight better.

But what I’ve realised through my own journey, and through the clients I work with, is that we can't hack our way out of an overloaded system. The shift happens when we stop looking for ways to carry more load, and instead start looking at the science of our boat. It's about learning how to set boundaried loads on what we expect ourselves to hold.

The storm outside might not change, but we can change how much water we allow into our own boat.

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I am a Capacity and Nervous System Coach supporting over-functioners who are tired of drowning in their own capability. If you’re ready to look at the science of your boat and move from overload to Rooted Flow, let’s do this together.