I Can Do It All. But I Don’t Have To.

I’ve had what you might call a squiggly career.

I’ve worked in different roles, different industries and done a bit of almost everything along the way. For a long time, I think I saw that as something I needed to explain. Why hadn’t I picked one thing? Why wasn’t there a lovely straight line from A to B to C? Why did I always seem to end up learning something new, taking on something else, or thinking, “Yep, I can probably figure that out…”?

Then came my ADHD diagnosis, and suddenly quite a lot of my life started to make sense.

The need for variety, the curiosity, the constant learning and the ability to throw myself completely into something new and somehow work it all out.

And, of course, the perfectionism! - I don’t just like to do things. I like to do them properly. Preferably VERY properly.

The job that taught me I could do it all

One of my previous roles taught me something really important about myself: I can do a lot more than I thought I could.

I learnt new systems, took on things I’d never done before, solved problems, figured things out and got involved in areas that, on paper, weren’t necessarily “my thing”.

And I loved it.

It gave me a huge amount of confidence in myself. I stopped being quite so scared of not knowing how to do something because I had enough evidence by then to know that I could probably learn.

That confidence has since stayed with me.

I know now that I can build a website. I can learn new software. I can create systems and processes. I can manage projects. I can organise, troubleshoot, research, write, plan and generally figure out a lot of things I’ve never done before.

If I don’t know how to do something, there’s a fairly good chance I’ll work it out pretty quickly.

That was a really important lesson for me.

But my current role is teaching me another one…..

Just because I can, does that mean I should?

I took a part-time role very deliberately.

I wanted something that would sit alongside the other parts of my working life rather than completely take them over.

What I found, though, is that I ended up taking on much more responsibility than I expected.

And the annoying thing is... I can do it.

That’s the trap.

Because when you’re somebody who is good at figuring things out, it’s very easy for “I can do this” to turn into “therefore I should do this.”

And if you’re also somebody who sets ridiculously high standards for yourself, you don’t just do the thing. You want to understand it properly. You see everything around it that could work better. You spot the gaps. You think about how all the pieces fit together. You want to fix those bits too.

Before you know it, something that was supposed to occupy one part of your working life is taking up a disproportionate amount of your brain.

And recently I’ve found myself thinking:

Who actually told me I have to do all of this?

The answer, in part at least, is probably me.

Nobody gave me a rule that says because I’m capable of solving a problem, I’m responsible for solving it.

Nobody said that if I take something on, I have to push myself to the point of exhaustion to make it brilliant.

And being able to do something doesn’t automatically mean it’s right for me.

That has been a surprisingly big realisation.

Capability isn't the same as capacity

I think I’ve spent quite a lot of my life confusing the two.

I know I’m capable of doing something, so I assume I have the capacity to do it.

But they’re completely different things.

I might have the skills to take something on, but do I actually have the time for it? Do I have the headspace? What else am I already carrying? What will taking this on mean for everything else in my life?

And perhaps most importantly: do I even want to do it?

That last one feels almost rebellious to write.

Because when you’re good at something, particularly when other people recognise that you’re good at it, it can feel strange to say you simply don’t want to keep doing more of it.

But being capable isn’t a contract.

I can do it.

That doesn’t mean I have to!

Which brings me to business owners...

Because I see exactly the same thing in small businesses.

When you’ve built a business yourself, you’ve had to become good at a ridiculous number of things.

You might have started your business because you’re a brilliant coach, designer, consultant, therapist, photographer or whatever else it is that you do.

But somewhere along the way, you’ve also become the administrator, finance department, customer service team, marketing person, diary manager, operations manager and reluctant IT support.

You probably can do all of those things.

You’ve proved that already. Your business exists because you figured them out.

But I think we ask the wrong question when we’re considering getting some support.

We ask, “Could I just do this myself?”

And quite often the answer is yes.

Maybe the better question is: “Is this where I want to spend my time and energy?”

Because those are two very different things.

You don't need to hand over everything

Getting support doesn’t have to mean suddenly employing somebody for 35 hours a week and handing them the keys to your entire business.

Sometimes a few hours of the right support can make an enormous difference.

Someone keeping on top of your inbox or diary. Sorting the admin that keeps slipping down the list. Sending invoices. Updating systems. Following up with client enquiries. Keeping track of what needs doing. Taking care of the small but necessary jobs that seem to take up a ridiculous amount of space in your head.

And that’s the bit I think we underestimate.

The value isn't only in the number of hours it takes someone else to complete those tasks. It's also in not having to carry them around with you.

It gives you some of your brain space back.

And, importantly, it gives you more time for the bits of your business that actually need you.

A different kind of capable

I still really value the lesson I learnt in that previous role.

I can do it all.

Knowing that changed something in me. It made me more confident, more willing to try things and much less frightened of not immediately knowing what I’m doing.

I don't want to lose that.

But maybe the next bit of growing up - professionally, personally, probably both - is understanding that I don't need to constantly prove it.

My squiggly career has given me an incredible mixture of skills and experiences. My brain is endlessly curious. I love learning things and figuring out how they work. And I care a lot about doing things well.

Those are strengths.

But I don't want my strengths to become the things that burn me out.

So I'm trying to get better at separating “I can do this” from “I need to do this.”

Sometimes both will be true.

Sometimes they won't.

And perhaps being capable isn't about being the person who can carry absolutely everything.

Maybe it's also knowing what is actually yours to carry.

I can do it all. But I don’t have to.

And neither do you.