The Wreaking Joy Podcast

Reclaim Ep 6 - Under Attack

Today’s episode was not on the schedule. It’s not the usual Reclaim style episode with one practical tip for one specific situation. Or maybe it is? It’s me, riffing on a theme that goes something like ‘let’s put all the rage and despair and existential angst from the most recent enshittifications firmly back where they belong - on the heads of those who are pushing hard for the repression of women'. I mention that I’m taking some action, but I haven’t shared the explicit HOW of that action, because it’s an experiment and not yet ripe or ready for teaching. That’s likely to happen in June, so stay tuned. In the meantime if you’re looking for something practical, do check out past episodes. And if you’re curious about the Courage & Trust article I wrote a few weeks ago, you’ll find it here [https://janettedalgliesh.substack.com/p/when-the-tanks-run-dry?r=hgx9a]: Back on script in two weeks’ time - see you then! ______________________ Thanks for reading Wreaking More Joy! If you know a woman who’s not feeling sovereign and powerful right now, please consider sharing this with her. Wreaking More Joy is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Get full access to Wreaking More Joy at janettedalgliesh.substack.com/subscribe [https://janettedalgliesh.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_4]

Reclaim Ep 5 - One tiny word

Hello, and welcome back to Wreaking More Joy. I’m Janette Dalgliesh, and in this season, Reclaim, we’re digging into the nuts and bolts, the practical solutions, as we continue exploring how women can disrupt outdated BS in our heads and rekindle the romance with our purpose, especially in our working lives. Last week we talked about cui bono, the question of who benefits from any given rule rattling around in your head. Today I want to zoom in on one specific word that the brain weasels absolutely love to use when seeking to impose an old rule, because it is one of their most effective tools. And then I’m going to give you the simplest possible antidote. It’s the word ‘should’. I’ll use my own example here, because it’s one I find a bit embarrassing, which is usually a sign it’s worth sharing. I love the people on my email list. I genuinely do. They are curious, thoughtful, purpose-driven women who have chosen to invite me into their inbox, and that is not something I take lightly. Staying connected with them matters to me. It’s something I actively want to do. So you would think that writing an email to my list would feel enjoyable. Natural. Easy. Letter to a friend easy. BUT - because my email list is also part of my working life, the brain weasels regularly show up with “Janette, you should write an email to my list”. And as soon as that happens, the whole thing immediately takes on the energy of duty and obligation. Letter to a friend becomes homework. It becomes imbued with a particular kind of flatness, that mild resistance, that sense of ‘ugh, I’ll get to it’. Which makes absolutely no sense, given how much I genuinely want to do it. And that right there is the tell. When ‘should’ shows up, it doesn’t matter how much you actually want the thing. It flattens everything. It turns desire into obligation. It takes something alive and makes it feel like a chore as dull as tax prep Here’s what ‘should’ actually does in your brain. It creates an internal boss - not a kind one or a fair one, but the mean kind we talked about in an earlier episode [https://janettedalgliesh.substack.com/p/reclaim-ep-1-the-meanest-boss-youve?r=hgx9a]. It’s a curt, dictatorial presence that has decided in advance what the appropriate standard is; and usually its voice is rich with a snarky, implied sense of ‘not good enough yet’. It doesn’t ask what you want. It doesn’t ask what’s realistic. It doesn’t ask what you need in order to actually do the thing well. It just issues the directive and stands there, arms folded, judging. ‘Should’ shows up in every area of life, but it has a particularly strident presence in our relationship with our work. * I should get that email out * I should call that client * I should have set up that pension fund * I should be doing more marketing * I should have figured this out by now (double ouch) Notice the energy of that list. Notice how it lands in your body. That heaviness, the sense of being a little (or a lot) behind, of failing a standard, of not quite measuring up. It’s not inspiring and it’s not helpful self-reflection. ’Should’ is the brain weasels, running a very effective programme of control, and you deserve better than that. You might be tempted at this point to go looking for the deeper cause. To ask: why do I resist this thing? What unresolved issue is at play here? Is there some old pattern I need to excavate and examine? Last episode we talked about the more efficient shortcut; when you notice a rule in your head, ask ‘cui bono’ - who benefits? And if it’s not you, disrupt the rule. This week, there’s an even more efficient shortcut which can unlock ‘should’ around any topic at all. Replace it with ‘could’. That’s it. One word. A single swap. And the same goes for ‘ought to’ and ‘need to’, because they’re the same thing in different shoes. Swap those too. For example: ‘I should write an email to my list’ becomes ‘I could write an email to my list’. And suddenly, a whole set of possibilities opens up. I could write it today, at the good coffee shop, where I know I do my best thinking I could dictate a rough draft into my phone on a walk and clean it up later I could write a shorter one than usual, because my 80% is more than good enough I could decide that this week, it’s simply not the priority, and come back to it next week without self-punishment I could do it because I genuinely want to stay connected with these people I love I could write a letter to my friends Feel the difference? The energy lifts. Different options appear. The internal boss uncrosses her arms. ‘Should’ is a closed door. It tells you that you are failing some weird pre-existing standard you didn’t set and weren’t consulted on. ‘Could’ is an open door. It tells you that you have actual choices. Could means: you could do it the easy way, the imperfect way, the way that actually suits how you work Could means: you could delegate it, barter for help, ask someone a favour Could means: you could decide it genuinely isn’t a priority right now, and put it down without guilt Could means: you could choose to reframe it and change how you feel about it, so the drudgery becomes fun. Do it. Delegate it. Ditch it. Dance with it. ‘Could’ means it is always, always your choice. Obligation, out. Pressure, farewell. Your sovereignty, back where it belongs. I said this was simple, and it is. That’s not the same as easy. Our brains are absolutely marinated in ‘should’. It is everywhere: in advertising, in the news, in social media, in the voices of people who love us and are just passing on what was passed to them. So the rewiring takes practice, patience, and a great deal of self-compassion. Here is how to start. Start noticing the ‘shoulds’ in your head. You don’t have to change or fix anything immediately. That act of noticing alone starts to create a tiny gap between you and the word. And in that gap is where your power lives. Play with the swap. Idly speculate on what it would feel like to swap ‘should’ with ‘could’. Sit with the ‘could’ version and see how it feels: exciting? weird? confusing because you don’t know what comes next? scary because it’s new? There’s no right or wrong response, and you do get to keep the ‘should’ if you need to. You’re just playing and stretching a little. Some ‘shoulds’ will cave almost immediately, creating an instant feeling of liberation. Others have been there a long time and will take more patience. Be gentle with yourself either way. And if the brain weasels pipe up and tell you that you’re just making excuses, that the standard exists for a reason, this is self-indulgent - remember last week we talked about cui bono. Run that question again. Who benefits from you staying devoted to this particular ‘should’? Is it you? Community? The system? Not all ‘shoulds’ are the enemy. ‘I should pay my tax on time’ is actually a good friend, even if it does seem annoying. So is ‘I should stop at this red light’. The ‘shoulds’ worth examining are the ones that leave you feeling smaller, behind, or not quite enough. If you’d like a journal prompt alongside this: write down three shoulds that are currently living in your head about your work. Swap each one to ‘could’. Then write down what becomes possible when you use the ‘could’ version. Notice what changes. And if you find that the ‘shoulds’ are very loud and very resistant, and the swap isn’t quite enough on its own, that’s not a sign you’re broken. It might be a sign there’s something more specific underneath that’s worth looking at. That’s exactly the kind of thing I love to explore together in the safe space of a coaching container - you can find out more at janettedalgliesh.com/rekindle-coaching [http://janettedalgliesh.com/rekindle-coaching]. Next week, we are talking about invisible work, and specifically why praising women for doing it quietly and without asking for credit is not actually a compliment, it is celebrating self-erasure. And it is time we talked about it. Until then, take care of yourself, shiny one, and go wreak some joy. Get full access to Wreaking More Joy at janettedalgliesh.substack.com/subscribe [https://janettedalgliesh.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_4]

Reclaim Ep 4 - The only question you need

Hello, and welcome back to Wreaking More Joy. I’m Janette Dalgliesh, and in this season, Reclaim, we’re digging into the nuts and bolts, the practical solutions, as we continue exploring how women can disrupt outdated BS in our heads and rekindle the romance with our purpose, especially in our working lives. Today I want to start with a client story, told with permission. Names have been changed to protect the innocent, which very much includes my client. We’d been working together for a few weeks when she came to a session in a really distressed state. She’d had a bad day, and when she told me what had happened, I could see why. She’d been at the park with her family. At one point she’d asked her husband to watch their two small kids while she went to get ice-creams. No big deal. She came back to find her little ones on the big kids’ climbing frame, way up in the air, the one they were definitely not allowed on. And her husband was looking at his phone. She lost her shit. Yelled at him, yelled at the kids, the whole nine yards. By the time we spoke, she’d sorted things out with the family. Turned out the phone had been an urgent text from her husband’s workplace, not doomscrolling or gaming. It was an error of judgement, for sure, but he’d been momentarily distracted, not checked out. The kids were fine, everyone was safe, but she was still visibly upset. When we dug deeper, she said: “I’m just so mad at myself; I should have been able to regulate my emotions better.” Oh, honey. No. Of course it’s hard when you’re doing your best to practise gentle parenting and non-violent communication. But we are all, also, human animals with a nervous system capable of hijacking every internal resource when danger seems immediate and potentially lethal. That reaction, the yelling, the fear, the fury, was a perfectly reasonable response to the situation. Her kids, potentially in danger. Her partner, apparently oblivious. Her nervous system did exactly what an animal’s nervous system is supposed to do when it perceives a threat to its offspring. The thing that brought her to tears wasn’t the incident. It was the feeling that she’d broken a rule. Done something wrong. That her strong emotional response was the problem. And I want to use that story to introduce you to one of the most powerful questions I know. It comes from the Latin: cui bono? Who benefits? It’s a question prosecutors use, and historians, and authors of detective fiction, and anyone who wants to understand why a particular rule or system exists. You follow the benefit, and it tells you a great deal about who made the rule, and why. It can be tempting to ask ‘who taught me this?’ but honestly, that’s not always the most efficient answer, because it leads to an almost endless series of ‘and who taught THEM?’ questions. Cui bono cuts to the chase. So let’s apply it here. The rule my client was applying to herself: strong emotional responses are a failure of self-control, especially in women. Cui bono? Who benefits from women believing that? Not my client. Not her kids. Not even her husband, who was so startled by her reaction in that moment, you can guarantee he’ll do things differently next time. The one who benefits from women keeping their anger locked in a dungeon is the system that is frightened of women’s anger. Women’s anger, when it’s given appropriate expression, is data, a warning a signal. It is fuel, the spark with the power to disrupt the status quo. And there are systems, and people within those systems, who have a vested interest in keeping that power suppressed. In this situation, who benefits from the rule “women must not get angry” is the status quo. Not her. The system. Now, I want to be clear about something, because this is not a call to throw out every rule you’ve ever been given. When you ask “cui bono?”, the answer is ultimately almost always ‘the system’ when you go deep enough. And that doesn’t always mean every rule is a bad thing. There are three kinds of answers you’ll find when you ask cui bono. The first: sometimes the rule benefits you directly. “Stop at a red light” is a rule, and when you follow it, you are absolutely one of the beneficiaries. So are your passengers, and all the other drivers and pedestrians around you. So is the system. Everyone’s safety matters. Keep that rule. The second: sometimes the rule doesn’t benefit you personally, but it benefits your community, and you’re glad of that. I pay tax, and I do it gladly, because I like living in a society that funds schools and aged care centres and healthcare and libraries and roads I may never drive down. The benefit isn’t mine alone, but I’m choosing to participate with my eyes open. I don’t just tolerate it, I celebrate it. When the answer to cui bono? is ‘community’ it’s nuanced and worth pondering. The third, and the one we’re focused on today: sometimes the rule harms you, and the primary beneficiary is a system that has an interest in keeping you controlled, compliant, and quiet. The “rule” that women must never be too loud, too angry, too ambitious, too much; the “rule” that you should be grateful for what you have and not ask for more; the “rule” that your needs come last. Those are the ones that deserve some disruption and a little wiggle room. The tool for looking at them is the same in every case: cui bono? Who actually benefits from me following this rule? And is that a benefit I want to continue contributing to? Here’s the thing about asking this question: it doesn’t automatically tell you what to do. It gives you information. And what you do with that information is your choice. That is the whole point. You are not a victim of the rules that were handed to you. You are also not obliged to comply with all of them for the rest of your life, simply because someone, somewhere, decided they were correct. You are a sovereign human being, with the capacity to look at any rule, ask who benefits, and make a genuinely informed choice about how you respond. My client didn’t need to try and suppress her emotions; nor did she need to condemn herself for them. She just needed to step back from the rule and see clearly who benefited from her belief that her anger was the problem. And that opened up a completely different set of questions to work with: what did she actually need from her husband going forward? What could they work on together so she felt she could trust him in the future? What did the kids need, to understand about safety? What did she herself need that might be useful next time, for handling the aftermath of a scary moment? Real questions. Useful questions. Questions with answers that actually served her. That’s what happens when you ask cui bono and let the answer inform your choices, rather than simply absorbing the rule and turning it inward as self-criticism. So here is your practice for this week. It’s a simple one, but don’t underestimate it. When you notice yourself feeling that particular flavour of self-criticism, the one that sounds like “I should have…” or “a person like me ought to be able to…” or “what is wrong with me, why can’t I just…”, pause. And ask: cui bono? Who actually benefits from me believing this about myself? If the honest answer is “I do”, great. Keep the standard, and keep your eyes open. If the honest answer is “my community does, and I’m okay with that”, also fine. That’s a choice made in full awareness. But if the honest answer is “the system does, and I don’t”, then you have just spotted a brain weasel working on behalf of something that is not your friend. And you can start to make a different choice. You don’t have to dismantle it all at once. Just look at it. Name it. Ask the question. That act alone starts to loosen the grip. And if you’d like a journal prompt alongside this: think of one rule about how you ‘should’ behave in your working life, one that makes you feel a bit small or a bit wrong when you think about it. Ask: cui bono? Who benefits, really? You don’t have to do anything with the answer yet; just let yourself see it clearly. If you’re finding that some of these rules feel very stubborn and very deeply installed, please know that’s not a sign you’re broken. It’s a sign the grooming went deep. Looking at it honestly is a genuinely brave thing to do. Take it gently, and bring a lot of self-compassion to the process. Next week, we’re staying with this territory, because there’s one specific word that the brain weasels absolutely love to deploy, and once you know how to spot it, you’ll see it everywhere. And I’ve got a delightfully simple tool for defusing it. Until then, take care of yourself, gorgeous one, and go wreak some joy. Get full access to Wreaking More Joy at janettedalgliesh.substack.com/subscribe [https://janettedalgliesh.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_4]

Reclaim Ep 3 - People-pleasing 101

Hello, and welcome back to Wreaking More Joy. I’m Janette Dalgliesh, and in this season, Reclaim, we’re digging into the nuts and bolts, the practical solutions, as we continue exploring how women can rekindle the romance with our purpose, our joy, and our personal power — especially in our working lives. Today I want to tell you about the worst professional decision I ever made. Many years ago, I was invited to join a project. I was in a room with the boss of the project, a very fancy investment guru and my life partner. All men, all looking at me with that particular brand of expectant energy that says “this is obviously a yes.” And I knew in the very pit of my stomach, instantly, clearly, unmistakably, that it was not a yes. My gut said NO. And I know you know what’s coming. I said yes anyway. I didn’t pause, I didn’t ask for time to think. I sat there with a NO shrieking from my belly, and performed the yes that the room required of me because after all: who am I to say no to something everybody else definitely wants? That decision cost me three years of toxic professional relationships, chronic stress, and eventually a lawsuit (we came out the other side okay, but only just). And the whole time, I knew that I had ignored something important in that room: my own gut. And I bet good money you knew how this story was going to end. We’ve all either done it, or witnessed it, over and over again. It was people-pleasing in its most consequential and damaging form. This was the kind that overrides your instincts so thoroughly, and so fast, that when you look back, it can feel like you said yes before you’ve even registered the no option. People-pleasing is not a minor inconvenience. It is not an endearing quirk. It can lead to real, long-term harm to your health, your relationships, your work, and your sense of who you are. And you know what else I’m going to say: people-pleasing is not a character flaw. It is not a personality type. It is not something you were born with - yes, even those of us born under a Libra Sun, the ones who are constantly told in every astrology magazine column that we are indecisive people pleasers. I have a whole ‘nother article on that, so if you’re Libran and you keep hearing that, you’ll want to go read it [https://janettedalgliesh.substack.com/p/mythbusting-libra?r=hgx9a]. People pleasing is learned. Of course it is. And it doesn’t usually start with the big, consequential stuff. It starts with the everyday, mild, socially-lubricating stuff, the “I’ll let you choose the restaurant” kind. That stuff seems relatively harmless (unless they know you’re wildly allergic and they insist on a lobster dinner) but it’s all part of the overarching framework, taken from the People-Pleasing groomers’ basic handbook. Because people-pleasing is not an innate trait; it is grooming us to fit into a system where we exist largely for the convenience and entertainment of others (usually men). Research shows clearly that in many ways, including in early childhood education, little boys are trained to notice their own needs and take action to have them filled, while little girls are taught to notice the needs of those around them, and to help them meet those needs. It’s not always conscious on the part of the adults doing the teaching, but it’s real and measurable and observable. We are praised for being thoughtful, considerate, accommodating, easy to get along with. Boy are praised for being strong, tough, independent, bold, determined. None of this is coming as a surprise, right? But I’m using language which might seem provocative or extreme. But I don’t think it’s extreme to say that we are groomed: groomed to read the room without even realising we’re doing it, to sense when someone is uncomfortable and smooth it over, to anticipate what’s expected and deliver it, without being asked. And the grooming gets reinforced at home, at school, in the workplace, in every system we move through. You’ll see it in every TV sitcom, in every Hollywood movie. You’ll read it in many bestselling novels where romance is at the core. I don’t even really have to explain this to you. You’ve probably even been the little girl who spoke her mind and got called bossy or difficult or cold, or selfish, or just plain “too much”. I know I was, until I learned my lesson and learned to shut up. The rewards of approval, warmth and belonging go to the ones who adapt. And our brilliant human brains, those incredible safety-seeking organs, take note. “Being agreeable is how I stay safe and connected. Accommodating others is how I belong. My needs can wait.” And the brain weasels, those bitey little critters lurking in our heads, carrying all the voices of all the systems of oppression; they become expert at the art of the pre-emptive yes. Before anyone even applies pressure, they’re already scanning the room for what’s expected, and moving your mouth accordingly. That’s what happened to me in that room. My brain weasels had had decades of practice. They didn’t even need to consult me before blurting out a yes, and then holding me down until it was ‘too late to back out’. The system LOVES it when my brain weasels trick me into complying. After all, a woman who is perpetually monitoring the needs of others and suppressing her own is incredibly easy to exploit. She doesn’t ask for the pay rise, she doesn’t push back on the unreasonable request, she takes on more and more in an effort to keep the peace. And if she wants things to change, she is told she ought to ‘lean in’, to become more aggressive, to become more predatory: to become those things that little boys are groomed for, even when her heart knows that’s not the answer either. The system doesn’t need to do much reinforcing any more, because her own brain weasels are doing the work for free. At this stage it would be easy to see ourselves as victims, but we are survivors and there is good news. You didn’t create these brain weasel shenanigans, the unconscious grooming installed in your skull. But they’re not innate, not inborn. They didn’t arrive with you on the planet - they were acquired in the process of growing up; they were learned. And they can be unlearned. Here’s the good news. Because it was learned, it can be unlearned; it can be brought to conscious awareness and reshaped so you are making choices from a place of autonomy and sovereignty, in your relationship to your working life and beyond. You don’t have to amputate your capacity for attunement. Your ability to read a room, your sensitivity to others, your emotional and relational intelligence are all genuinely extraordinary qualities. They are part of your genius and we’re not here to cut those out. We just need to rebalance the original training and establish the habit of noticing your own signals first, and giving them priority that is at the very least equal to the priority we give the needs of those around us. Those people might be our customers, our colleagues, our clients, our loved ones. We need to re-establish that gift we had in infanthood, the gift of knowing what we want and giving voice to it without fear. That gut NO I felt back in that room was not a failure of instinct. My instinct was working perfectly. What was missing was the habit of giving myself space, time and permission, to let that instinct count for something before I opened my mouth. Making that shift isn’t an overnight thing, but it starts with something really simple that I’m calling the Body Vote. It works like this. I would love for you to try it out. The next time someone asks something of you, whether it’s a request, an invitation, a project, a favour; before you respond, take one single, gentle breath. Just one. And in that breath, drop your attention briefly into your body. Your gut, your chest, your throat. You don’t have to do anything here except simply notice: is there a YES here? Does something in me soften, or lean forward? Or is there a NO? A tightening, a sinking, a subtle bracing? You don’t have to act on it immediately. I’m a great believer in the absence of rush in order to have things move faster (yes, I know it sounds weird but it works - think about the last time your car was stuck in mud and you knew to accelerate very gently to get traction so you could get out). Depending on your relationship with the patterns of people-pleasing, you can start with this most gentle part: simply practising noticing. Get acquainted with the signal that’s been there all along, that you may have been trained to skip right past. Let it get louder every time you notice it. Bask in the realisation that actually, your signals have always been there, and now you’re taking action to boost them. When it feels right (maybe the next day, maybe in a week’s time, maybe that first moment), when you’ve started to build that awareness, add in one powerful phrase “I’ll need to check on that and I’ll get back to you in 24 hours.” Not “I’m not sure”, not an apology, not an excuse, not even “I need to think about it”. I need to check on that and I’ll get back to you in 24 hours. Unless you’re working in the ER, or you do instant-turnaround services of some kind, a 24 hour window is a reasonable timeframe. 24 hours is specific enough that it gives you plenty of time, and it also tells them there is a clear expectation of what’s reasonable. You don’t have to explain who you’ll be checking with, or what you’ll be checking. Could be your calendar, your financial advisor, your toddler. It’s really your own Self you’re checking with, but the person making the ask doesn’t need to know that. You do not owe an explanation. Just “I’ll need to check on that and get back to you”. Calm, clear, reasonable. That phrase gives you time for your body’s vote to get solid before the people-pleasing brain weasels try to cast the deciding ballot. This is not about always saying no and never saying yes. You’re not going to become an overnight a-hole. This is about restoring that sense of ‘hey, I get to decide my answer based on what I actually want’. Your response is always going to be somewhat context oriented, obviously. When my husband texts to say ‘hey, want to go to the Greek place after work tonight?’ I don’t ask for a 24 hour turnaround. I say yes, because a) the food’s awesome and b) I don’t have to cook and c) I like spending time with him. No brainer. But I’m an introvert and I don’t do well on unplanned social engagements at short notice, so if a distant acquaintance or a former colleague from my old day job does the same, I’m asking for the turnaround. I need the space to set parameters of when, where and what. Coffee? Sure. Clubbing? Nope. You’ll probably still have moments when you say yes, when your gut says no. I still do it sometimes, though far less than I used to. The key here is to celebrate full-out when you claim your preferred position on something, and be gentle with yourself when it feels like the people-pleasing won out. You’re retraining something that runs very, very deep. You are choosing to show up for yourself the way you’ve spent a lifetime showing up for everyone else, and that’s unfamiliar territory. There’s one more thing. We know that the brain and nervous system can interpret ‘unfamiliar’ as ‘wrong’ or even ‘dangerous’, so you’ll also need lots of self-compassion to go into the mix. And if your ‘no’ is going to make things literally unsafe for you, I hope you will move slowly and reach out for support in whatever way is available to you. If this is landing somewhere deep for you, if you’re recognising a pattern that feels bigger than “I just need to do a bit of rewiring to silence the brain weasels”, this is exactly the kind of thing I love to explore. I’d love for you to subscribe to my Substack if you’re not already, and if you’d like to grab one of my free resources to take a deeper dive, come check out my freebies page - https://www.janettedalgliesh.com/free-stuff [https://www.janettedalgliesh.com/free-stuff] Next week, we’re looking at what I think is one of the most useful questions you can ask when you think a brain weasel might be at play and you’re not sure. It’s short, it’s deceptively simple, and once you have it, you’ll use it everywhere. Until then, take good care of yourself, shiny one, and let’s go wreak some joy. Get full access to Wreaking More Joy at janettedalgliesh.substack.com/subscribe [https://janettedalgliesh.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_4]

Reclaim Ep 2 - The Perfectionism Trap

The Perfectionism Trap Tagline: your impossible standards are a survival strategy, not a personality flaw Hello, and welcome back to Wreaking More Joy. I’m Janette Dalgliesh, and in this season, Reclaim, we’re digging into the nuts and bolts, the practical solutions, as we continue exploring how women can rekindle the romance with our purpose, our joy, and our personal power — especially in our working lives and especially in a chaotic world that can feel so unsafe. In today’s episode I want to talk about perfectionism; that old familiar trope that makes us all roll our eyes at the familiarity and the frustration of it. I’m going to share a story, and I bet you can relate with at least some of it. Over a decade ago, I was invited to give a keynote presentation for a small but pretty high-level businesswomen’s networking group in Melbourne. It felt like a Major Opportunity, capital M capital O, so you can probably already imagine the energy I brought to preparing for it. Impeccable notes, inspired handouts, and a slideshow that was a work of art - no ‘death by powerpoint’ on my watch, thank you very much. I caught the train down from my home in the country, and being a dedicated perfectionist, I used every minute of that train trip to work on my laptop: polishing things, tweaking things, making everything just a little bit better. I arrived at the venue early, because that’s what prepared, professional people do, and I walked in to discover that the entire audio-visual setup had fallen over. Not just the AV; the power supply for the whole venue. No microphone, no way to project my beautifully crafted, video-enhanced slideshow. And, of course, no notes on my laptop because I had completely flattened the battery doing all that polishing on the train. They didn’t even have lighting, so the entire event had to move outside to a space where at least the venue could provide some hastily catered-in snacks with coffee, and the basic necessities of life. In this far more informal setting, less TED talk and more “Saturday afternoon at the pub”, I stood up in front of this group of professional, accomplished businesswomen and just spoke off the cuff. Because here’s the thing: I do actually know my stuff, just like I bet you do too.  Thanks to a twenty year career as a professional performer, I’ve had plenty of practice at being thrown in the deep end and thinking on my feet; so that’s what I did. It was looser and more conversational than I’d planned. It wasn’t what I had prepared. I forgot some essential parts, and got drawn into rabbit holes I didn’t plan on. And they loved it all. The feedback was warm, the conversations afterwards were rich, and more than one person told me it was one of the best sessions the group had hosted. All of that work, all of that preparation, all those hours on the train making it more perfect, and the version that actually landed was me at 80 percent: unprepared, battery-flat, notes-free, bits missing, extemporising from my heart. That day I learned two important things: One: my 80% is more than enough, and sometimes it’s even better that my ‘best’. Two: sometimes perfectionism will literally kill your battery and sabotage your stuff. These days I do travel with a power pack and a laptop with significantly more battery life, because I do not love that much of the unexpected! But that lesson stayed with me. And I want to explore a story about perfectionism that we’ve been sold, that may not be true. Perfectionism is not a character flaw, or a form of self-sabotage, or a sign that you’re doing it wrong or you’re broken. It’s a well-designed survival strategy. It emerged in the moments where your nervous system learned that mistakes could be used as evidence against you. For a lot of women, that isn’t a metaphorical moment; it is literal.  We’ve all entered workplaces, professions, industries, and systems where one error could be cited as proof that the doubters were right, that maybe people like us shouldn’t be here after all. The brain weasels — those delightful little creatures I talked about in Season 1 — are designed to scan for threat.  And in environments where being less-than-perfect carries a real, measurable cost, the brain weasel logic is pretty sound: if I make this perfect, I cannot be criticised. If I cannot be criticised, I cannot be dismissed.  Perfectionism becomes the price of the ticket to get into and STAY in the system. And of course, the threat from which your nervous system was originally protecting you has most likely changed. You might be in a much safer environment now. You might be working for yourself, or with people who genuinely support you, or in a context where mistakes are actually fine and no one is keeping score. But the perfectionism brain weasels don’t know that.  They’re still in the old environment, still scanning for danger, still insisting that 95% isn’t enough. That you need to stay on that train, working on the laptop, making it better, even as the battery ticks toward zero. And brain weasels are sneaky lil’ critters. They’ll disguise perfectionism to look like being conscientious, or having high standards, or even “professionalism”.  Nobody ever taps you on the shoulder and says ‘hey, that survival strategy is hurting you and you could have half-arsed this and it would have been fine.’  They’re more likely to say ‘wow, you’re so thorough’, while the perfectionism brain weasels bask in the sunshine of approval. So it persists.  And it costs you, not just in hours and exhaustion (though it costs you those too), but in joy.  Yes, we have joy in doing a good job. Yes, there is such a thing as the joy of excellence.  But there is very little joy available in an ongoing, endless pursuit of being good enough to be safe, because the goalpost of ‘safe’ keeps moving. When is it perfect enough? Never. When can I relax? Not yet. What do we actually do about this? I want to invite you to something I call the ‘Close Enough for Jazz’ practice.  Step 1 Choose one piece of work you have been sitting on for a while. It could be something you’ve been over-working, over-polishing, or just not sending because it’s not quite right yet. Or it could be something you’re halfway through making, and you have a vision for the perfect version of it that seems a really long way off.  Ask yourself, honestly: at what percentage point does this become useful to the person I’m making it for? Not perfect or flawless, or polished within an inch of its life. Not the version you would produce if you had infinite time, infinite capacity and no other calls on your attention.  Just actually, functionally useful.  What percentage does it need to be at, for the person receiving it to get real value from it? Step 2 Ship it at that percentage. Step 3 This is the important bit: notice what actually happened and write that down. Did the world end? Did you lose the client? Did someone send you a strongly worded email about the one thing you hadn’t quite finished? Mostly, the answer is no. Mostly, what happens is what happened to me in that outside space with the snacks and the flat laptop: it lands just fine. Sometimes it even lands better. Write that outcome down, because that outcome is evidence and evidence is what builds genuine self-trust over time, which is a thing we are going to talk about more, this season. And if you’d like a journal prompt to play with, here it is: when did I first learn that my mistakes could be used against me? What was the context? What would it mean if I could go back with everything I’ve learned since then, all my maturity and skill and my confidence, and tell that girl that her 80% is more than enough? I do love to provide excellence; that hasn’t changed. And also: my 80% is pretty darn good. I bet yours is too. Meanwhile - if you enjoyed this episode and you'd like to take a deeper dive into wreaking more joy in your working life, come visit my website at www.janettedalgliesh.com That’s it for Episode 2 of Season 2. Next week we’re talking about people-pleasing and why it, too, is not a character flaw but the result of some gnarly grooming we’ve all been exposed to. Until then, take care of yourself, remember to charge your laptop, and go wreak some joy. Get full access to Wreaking More Joy at janettedalgliesh.substack.com/subscribe [https://janettedalgliesh.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_4]