Episode 9: I'm Behind

Catch this episode on Apple, Spotify, or Android. 

If a friend’s promotion post has ever sent you down a doom-scroll rabbit hole of job tabs and self-doubt, this episode is your antidote. In just half an hour we’ll catch the “I’m behind” thought at the source, drain the panic in ninety seconds, and reframe every twist in your résumé as intentional training for what’s next. You’ll leave with a fresh belief that actually feels true, a delight-driven vision for the year ahead, and a micro-action you can take before the school-pick-up alarm goes off. Let’s turn comparison into clarity—one practical move at a time.

What You'll Learn

• How to spot the exact millisecond comparison hijacks your brain and install a quick “pop-up blocker” before it spirals.
• A 90-second, science-backed reset you can run while the microwave hums, turning urgency into usable information.
• A simple test that separates the photograph of your career (hard data) from the anxious caption “I’m behind.”
• A step-by-step way to translate zig-zag experience into a clear value story so that your résumé reads adaptable, not late.
• One five-minute action ritual that builds daily momentum (and proof) without adding another thing to your to-do list.

Episode Transcript

So picture this. It’s 9:07 a.m. The house is finally quiet, your coffee’s been reheated (again), and the day’s first Zoom hasn’t started. A quick LinkedIn scroll while your emails load and then bam: your college roommate, front‑page style, “Promoted to Vice President.”

Your chest tightens. Before you can tap the clapping‑hands emoji, that inner narrator mutters, “I’m so far behind.” I’ve heard this in different variations from a number of clients, and I can relate to it big time.

At 25, I had worked in a couple of law firms and a couple of start ups, and I felt I had nothing to show for it except for a handful of generalist skills and a reputation for a woman who can get things done. I felt so behind watching my peers’ linear career paths and growing content-specific expertise. I debated law school and ended up in a public policy program, believing a public‑service label might finally fit since it aligned with my values. After grad school, I spent a decade in education policy, externally getting promoted and thriving by all accounts, but I still had a vague feeling that I just was missing out on something elusive my peers seemed to have. 

The psychology degree I’d dismissed as charming‑but‑useless sat on the shelf like a reminder of choices that “weren’t paying off.” Then, in a leadership workshop, a facilitator asked us to map the common thread in every role we’d held. Mine was obvious: I was obsessed with how people think, decide, and change. That workshop cracked the door to coaching, and suddenly the dusty psych degree wasn’t a punch‑line; it was my core credential. Everything started to make sense, but only more than a decade after I had started my career journey.

So if you’re an ambitious mom comparing yourself to peers or drawing up a new chapter while quietly feeling like everyone else seems miles ahead, stay with me. Over the next half hour you’ll leave with:

- A brain pop‑up blocker that catches the “I’m‑behind” script before it hijacks your focus.

- A 90‑second reset routine you can run while the microwave counts down…pure nervous‑system science, zero fluff.

- A reframing lens that turns every zig‑zag on your résumé into evidence you’re resourceful, not late.

- A micro‑action play you can plug into any crowded day to build honest momentum.

Open a fresh note on your phone and let’s get started.

SEGMENT 1: CREATE SELF-AWARENESS

Comparison begins in a blink you almost miss. The instant you see that “VP Promotion” headline, your shoulders lift, your breath shortens, and a tiny alarm inside your brain fires and the same built‑in sensor yells, “Something’s off—catch up!” Researchers have watched it spark on brain scans whenever we look at someone who seems ahead of us. In everyday language: your mind mistakes their win for evidence you’re losing.

First, call out the spark as it happens. Literally whisper, “Pop‑up detected.” Naming it drags the moment into the light, which gives you power and options.

Next, name the hidden scoreboard. Open a note on your phone and finish the sentence, “I think I should have … by now.” Maybe it’s “Director title by thirty‑five,” “college fund fully loaded,” or “jeans that fit like pre‑baby.” Seeing those lines on‑screen reveals them for what they are—borrowed rules, not universal truths or even your actual truths.

Now narrate the entire chain like a play‑by‑play.

The fact is that my roommate posted a promotion post.

This fact makes me think “I’m behind.”

When I believe this thought, I feel urgency in my chest.

When I feel urgent, I tend to open a bunch of job-search tabs. I don’t focus on my current job. I ruminate. I compare myself to a different, more perfect version of myself. I ruminate.

When I do this, I get a scattered result that keeps me right where I started.

Notice that you’re thinking if you just hadn’t seen that post, if your roommate instead had posted something about feeling behind and lost, you would feel more on track. Less urgency to change something about yourself.

But it’s never our circumstances that create our feelings. It’s always the story we tell about them. And the brilliant part about the human experience is that we have the option to tell any story to ourselves that we want to. Sure, it’s easier when our circumstances naturally trigger stories we like. But this is about regaining our power when they don’t.

But before fixing anything, drop into the body for two minutes. Sit tall and locate urgency. Maybe it buzzes in your chest; maybe it tightens your jaw. Just get familiar with the feeling. Simply witness it. The buzz, the tightness. Observation alone drains some chemistry.

With the body quieter, ask—and answer—three clarifying questions:

Question number one, what am I thinking I’m behind, exactly?
Maybe it’s “a timeline stitched together from other people’s résumés and my own perfectionist stories.” Just notice that you’re the one determining what “behind” means.

Question number two: If that finish line vanished, what would genuinely interest me right now?
Maybe it’s “pitching the cross‑team workshop I keep sketching in my notebook.” Pay attention to the little ideas, the little nudges, the little patterns in what you do in your downtime or you simply prefer to do when the opportunity arises at work. Allow yourself to notice when you seem to lose yourself in something. Looking back at my own career, I can see that it’s no mistake I was obsessed with infographics in grad school and elaborately beautiful Google sheets to manage workflows. I have always been interested in communicating information in a way that eases the cognitive load of the audience, and I have always been interested in efficiency, growth, and productivity. No one asked me to make sure the Google sheet was easy on the eyes and intuitive to use. This was my creativity poking through.

Question number three: What evidence says my path is working?
Maybe it’s “I delivered a product update that added half a million dollars in revenue” or “Two mentees still text me for advice and I’m happy to give it.” Take a moment to notice that your path may not seem linear to you, but that it’s full of a million ways you have added value.

I invite you to zoom out and picture your career as a constellation, not a racetrack. Some stars flare fast, others glow slow, but together they form a picture that only makes sense when you step back. I offer you this grounding line: “Every pivot taught me a skill I use now” and start to notice how you are leveraging your experiences in your work now. It just may not be obvious on paper until you take a moment to yourself to reflect.

SEGMENT 2: ALLOW YOUR HUMAN EXPERIENCE

Ok, so we’ve shined a light on the thought “I’m behind,” so now let’s work on a deeper level with the feeling it unleashes.

The feeling of urgency can feel like a drill sergeant barking “Move, move, move!” inside your ribcage. The moment comparison sparks, your body releases a cocktail of stress chemicals designed for sprint‑level action. Harvard neuro‑anatomist Jill Bolte Taylor famously timed the raw surge of a feeling at about ninety seconds. After that, the chemistry dies down—unless we keep fanning it with more anxious sentences.

So our job isn’t to banish urgency; it’s to ride that ninety‑second wave until it rolls back, then decide what it was trying to tell us.

First, name exactly what’s happening in real time.

 “I feel a fast, buzzing pressure in my chest—that’s urgency, not truth.” Saying it out loud is like turning on the lights so you can see what to do.

Next, give your nervous system the 90-second exit ramp it’s craving. Plant both feet on the floor and press your heels down. Inhale for a slow count of four, hold for two, exhale for six. Do that twice. Then add a tiny bit of movement—roll your shoulders back, shake out your wrists, or, if you’re standing at the kitchen counter, do a groggy neck stretch while your coffee heats. Simple motion sends the all‑clear signal up the vagus nerve: “We’re not in danger; you can power down.”

After 90 seconds, most of the chemistry has drained. What’s left is the opportunity to examine cleaner data about what you value. In other words, when you allow the feeling so that it can subside, it’s easier to see what is true for you. You can start to treat urgency like a well‑meaning but dramatic friend: “Thanks for yelling—what are you actually worried we’ll miss?”

Here are three questions you can use to find this inner truth:

Number one, what need is my urgency revealing?
Maybe it’s “I’m craving meaningful stretch goals.”

Number two, why is this important to me? Which value of mine is it tied to?
Maybe it’s “growth and creative impact.”

And number three, given that value, what’s one tiny step I can take today that isn’t chained to a deadline?
Maybe it’s “I will block twenty minutes on Friday to outline the workshop idea I keep day‑dreaming about.”

Schedule that step directly into your calendar before you move on. Don’t just write it on a note. Schedule the time. Then, because working‑mom life never wastes a good hack, thank the feeling of urgency for the heads‑up and picture her trotting back to the locker room until she’s needed again. She will be back all the time. Let’s work with her without letting her run the show.

SEGMENT 3: ANALYZE YOUR HUMAN EXPERIENCE

Now that your nervous system is back in neutral, let’s switch on our curious side and see whether the story “I’m behind” can actually stand up to questioning.

Start by stating the thought exactly as it appears—no dressing it up: “I’m behind in my career.” Write it in black ink. I can’t say enough about how seeing your thoughts on paper freezes the sentences long enough for you to poke at it from every angle.

Ask yourself, almost like a lawyer cross‑examining a witness: “Is this statement a photograph or a caption?” The photograph is neutral data—years worked, roles held, projects completed. The caption is the meaning you’ve scribbled underneath. Almost every time, “I’m behind” turns out to be a caption.

You can even list specific raw data. Maybe you navigated maternity leave and still hit your Q3 numbers. Maybe you pitched a stretch project and got a reluctant yes. Maybe you quietly built a cross‑functional squad that now runs like clockwork. Scan your list: do you see the word “behind” anywhere? It’s absent, because facts rarely accuse us; our interpretations do the shouting.

Your brain, bless it, will immediately try to defend the original story. Confirmation bias loves to replay evidence that fits its narrative…cue the highlight reel of everyone who seems to have leapfrogged you. So we are balancing the ledger on purpose. Let your eyes rest on that list for ten slow breaths; you’re giving your reticular activating system fresh material to notice.

Now I invite you to close your eyes and imagine your life as a ten‑chapter novel. You’re reading from chapter seven; the plot is smack in the messy middle, not the epilogue. Picture the pages still blank beyond this point and ask, “If my story isn’t finished, what wide‑open possibilities live in chapters eight through ten?” Notice the shift in your chest. It’s hard for urgency to breathe when curiosity walks in.

To widen the lens even further, step onto the porch with your eighty‑five‑year‑old self. Picture her in a weathered rocker, warm mug in hand, replaying a highlight reel of your life.

Ask her two things. “Will I regret taking the winding road that taught me resilience, empathy, and creativity? Or will I regret spending prime years obsessing over other people’s timelines?” Almost every listener I coach reports the same answer…future‑you values the detours because they’re where the grit, grace, and great stories live.

SEGMENT 4: ALIGN TO WHAT YOU WANT

Ok, so you’ve loosened the old timeline. Now let’s work on a new belief so that your days start lining up with the life you actually want, not the one LinkedIn’s scoreboard keeps advertising.

Begin with the new sentence you just chose. Maybe it’s “I’m learning at exactly the pace I need.” Say it once, then immediately ask, “If that’s true, what am I hungry to experience next?” “What would simply delight me about my life if it were true?” Not what looks good on a résumé, not what earns polite nods at the neighborhood barbecue. What would light you up on an ordinary Tuesday?

Close your eyes and picture yourself twelve months from today, waking up in a life that makes your shoulders drop in the best way. Notice what you’re wearing as you pour coffee, what you hear in the background, how your face feels when you open your laptop. Are you leading a brainstorm with people who energize you? Are you blocking off an hour to draft that article you keep outlining in your head? Are you sliding into a standing desk rather than a chair because you finally made movement non‑negotiable? Capture the scene in one vivid paragraph. This is your delight visual, and the richer the sensory detail, the harder your brain will work to treat it like an upcoming appointment rather than a vague wish.

To simplify this, I like to pick a single word that captures my picture. My word for this upcoming season is “playful.” It would delight me if my coaching, my marketing, my parenting, and my health felt playful. Like I’m just playing around. Just trying this and that. Just goofing around in life. Behind this light word is a deep trust in myself that when I keep it light, I feel more like myself, and when I feel like myself, I create value. I have this deep trust because I do the exact work I’m teaching you. I take the time to get to know my ever-changing self every day, just like you are now.

SEGMENT 5: TAKE AN INCREMENTAL ACTION STEP

So the map is drawn, and now it’s time for motion…just enough to convince your brain the new route is real. Forget 90‑day plans for now. I invite you to look for one single action so bite‑sized your nervous system stays relaxed and your perfectionist side can’t hijack it.

Pick something that takes less than five minutes and lives inside the scene you imagined. If your delight visual features leading creative brainstorms, maybe you pull up your calendar, find an open 15‑minute slot next week, and label it “Draft brainstorm outline.” If delight showed up as morning walks, you could set out your sneakers by the front door tonight. Maybe you send an invitation to a director for a virtual coffee right now. The key is immediacy: choose a step simple enough to finish between the moment this episode ends and the next work or household interruption.

When you’re done, say the win out loud, even if you’re alone in your kitchen: “I sent the invite,” or “The outline doc exists.” That spoken acknowledgment pairs movement with a tiny hit of dopamine. Small but deliberate actions, celebrated in real time, train your brain to trust that you follow through on your own ideas—which means it will back you more readily when bigger moves arise.

CONCLUSION

Look at the ground you just covered in under an hour. I am so proud of you. You caught the moment comparison tried to commandeer your morning, named it before it snowballed, and let the surge in your body crest and roll back instead of driving you into job-search chaos. You cross‑examined the sentence “I’m behind” until it shrank from a neon billboard to a flimsy caption, then replaced it with a belief your nervous system could actually relax into. You sketched a day‑in‑the‑life that lights you up and proved its reality with a five‑minute move your future self will thank you for.

That’s not pep talk; it’s neurological repatterning and values‑based planning in real time—while the Slack pings, lunch boxes, and laundry keeps rolling. Savor that evidence. Momentum lives in your calendar now, not just your imagination.

Over the next week, keep running the pop‑up detector, the 90‑second reset, and the micro‑action ritual. You’ll notice the comparison loses its grip faster each time and your delight visual will start to become your actual life. If you want company and calibrated guidance as you map the next chapters, tailored tools, real‑time coaching, and a community of women working the same muscle, join me inside the Choose Better Thoughts Coaching Program. We go deeper into these practices, celebrate together, and build the kind of sustainable confidence that doesn’t need a LinkedIn headline to feel solid.

Until the next episode, keep your eyes on your own constellation. I’ll meet you back here with fresh tools and another mindset myth to dismantle.