I grew up believing the same mantra many of us did: always do your best. It was plastered on classroom posters, drilled into sports practices, and reinforced at home. The idea sounds good, even noble. Who doesn’t want to give their best? But in this week’s podcast conversation with my sister, Channing, I found myself rethinking that long-held belief. And honestly? It’s one of the most freeing shifts I’ve made.
Channing is an Associate Licensed Professional Clinical Counselor, specializing in eating disorders, and nearing the finish line of her 3,000 supervised hours. But more than that, she’s someone who has lived the pressure of perfectionism and come out the other side with perspective. When I asked her what belief about work or success she no longer buys into, she didn’t hesitate: “Always do your best.”
At first, I thought, wait – what? That’s the very foundation so many of us have built our work ethic on. But as she unpacked it, it made more sense than I expected.
“This isn’t permission to slack off,” she explained. “It’s permission to give yourself grace.”
And the truth is, she’s right. People like me, like Channing, like probably you if you’re reading this, aren’t in danger of slacking off. We’re the ones who sprint a thousand miles per hour toward our goals, often at the cost of sleep, joy, and balance. We’re the ones who give 100% even when we’ve only got 65% left in the tank. And that kind of effort, day in and day out, doesn’t make you a hero. It makes you burned out.
Redefining “Your Best”
Channing described her work in a residential eating disorder treatment center. She sees clients in some of the most vulnerable, fragile seasons of their lives. It’s a job where she wants to give 100% every single day. But some mornings she wakes up tired, distracted, or just not at full capacity. On those days, pushing herself to “do her best” would actually mean pushing herself into exhaustion. Instead, she reframes it: maybe today “her best” looks like listening more and speaking less, or creating space for silence rather than forcing solutions. It’s still good work, but it’s sustainable.
That word stuck with me: sustainable. Because it’s not about giving less, it’s about giving wisely.
As I told Channing, I’ve always joked that I run at a thousand miles per hour toward my goals – but only toward my goals. I don’t pour all my energy into things that don’t matter to me. My real best, my highest energy, is reserved for my wife and kids. If I spend it all making my boss happy, I’ve got nothing left for the people who actually matter most to me. And that’s a trade I’m not willing to make.
Boundaries as an Act of Strength
Channing shared another piece that hit me hard: “I can’t do favors for a company that won’t do favors for me.”
That’s the kind of wisdom you only get after working in environments that will happily take every ounce of extra energy you’re willing to hand over. Channing’s seen it firsthand – when you go above and beyond without boundaries, you don’t get rewarded. You get exploited. And the only person who can stop it is you.
Boundaries aren’t laziness. They’re strength. They’re clarity. They’re choosing to give strategically, not endlessly. And for Channing, those boundaries have looked like refusing to work beyond 40 hours when her state doesn’t protect her from overwork, or evaluating whether incentive programs are actually worth it. For me, they’ve looked like leaving enough energy in the tank for bedtime stories, dinner conversations, and family adventures. The details are different, but the heart is the same: boundaries protect what matters most.
The Imposter Syndrome Factor
Of course, not all over-effort comes from pressure at work. Sometimes it comes from pressure within. That’s where imposter syndrome sneaks in.
Channing told me about her first season as a volleyball referee. Anyone who’s ever been to a middle or high school game knows how vocal parents and coaches can be about calls. For a brand-new ref, the criticism can feel brutal. She admitted she felt like a fraud at times, wondering if she really knew what she was doing. But she learned something important: the key wasn’t to be perfect. It was to be confident.
“If I confidently make a call, it cannot be questioned,” she said. “Confidence in the face of imposter syndrome is what allows you to get through.”
It reminded me of my own high school sports days, when refs who let us figure things out actually made the game better than those who nitpicked every mistake. Sometimes “good enough” really is good enough, especially if you stand behind it.
Recognition Matters (Even When It’s Silly)
Another part of our conversation veered into the funny-yet-meaningful territory of recognition. Channing shared how, in college, she won the “Susan Stapish Award” – essentially a “You Did a Good Job” award named after a former staff member. On paper, it was trivial. But for her, it was validating. It meant someone noticed her effort.
I laughed because I’ve kept a plastic cruise ship trivia award on my office bookshelf for the same reason. Not because it’s impressive, but because it reminds me of a fun memory with my daughters. Recognition matters. Sometimes it’s about validation, sometimes about connection, but it’s rarely about the actual award.
Lessons from Birthdays and Boundaries
One of my favorite stories Channing shared came from her childhood. Growing up with a summer birthday, there were years where she felt forgotten – friends were out of town, money was tight, and she sat at home disappointed. That feeling stuck with her. Now, as an adult, she’s intentional about sending birthday texts to friends. Even if it’s just a simple “thinking of you,” she knows how much it can matter.
It’s a small thing, but it connects back to her deeper values—the same ones that drove her to counseling. She knows what it feels like to hurt, to grieve, to feel unseen. And she’s committed to being the person who notices, who reaches out, who makes sure others don’t feel alone.
That’s not just professional expertise. That’s personal conviction.
The Clear Enough Mindset
As always, I wrapped up our conversation by asking: What’s one thing that makes your life clear enough right now?
Channing’s answer was simple but profound: “I can take one step without seeing the whole path.”
She’s in a waiting game right now—finishing her supervised hours, preparing for her licensing exam, unsure exactly where her career will take her next. But instead of being paralyzed by the unknown, she’s focusing on what she can control: one step, one day, one action at a time.
That’s the very heart of the Clear Enough mindset. We don’t have to know the whole plan. We just have to take the next step that’s clear enough. And sometimes, that’s the bravest thing we can do.
Final Thoughts
So maybe the mantra shouldn’t be “always do your best.” Maybe it should be: do what’s sustainable. Or do what’s aligned with your values. Or even just do the next thing that’s clear enough.
Because giving yourself grace, setting boundaries, and honoring your energy doesn’t make you less committed. It makes you more human. And in the end, that humanity is what allows us to show up fully—for our work, for our families, and for ourselves.
If you want to connect with Channing, you can reach her at ChanningLPCC@gmail.com or find her on LinkedIn. She specializes in eating disorders, OCD, and related behavioral concerns, and she’s passionate about connecting people with the right resources—even if that means a referral to someone else in her network.
And if you want to hear our full conversation (including some funny sibling stories we didn’t get into here), you can listen to the episode of Clear Enough with Drew Bushman wherever you get your podcasts.