GUEST SPEAKER

Author Laura Jane Williams’ whole identity was tied up in her career - now, she’s discovering that success comes in many different guises

Laura Jane Williams discovers there’s more to life than work

A FEW MONTHS INTO A NEW RELATIONSHIP, MY PARTNER SAID THAT I WORKED TOO HARD.

He pointed out that our relationship wouldn’t go the distance if I didn’t make room for us. I panicked. I thought he was trying to change me.

“My career has loved me for a decade and a half and you’ve been here 10 minutes,” I said. “It’s the right thing that I’d prioritise it over you.” And then I added the doozy – words I cannot believe left my mouth: “Who am I if I’m not working hard and being successful, anyway?”

Yikes. Talk about making your job your identity. I believed that to be a feminist who is in charge of her destiny, I had to lean in and have it all, and set up a side hustle on top of that. My whole character was my work.

The women I looked up to were writer-director-producers and Ceopublic-speakers and charity founders. Boss ladies. Solopreneurs. Go-getters. Everyone had a hyphen in her job title, or a “portfolio career” with multiple endeavours. I thought that’s what clever, capable women did, and I wanted to be clever and capable. I didn’t have time for dinners and phone calls and overnight trips: I had to work.

When we started dating, my new boyfriend and I had whole days cooking and watching Netflix shows. We’d spend lazy mornings in bed, and I loved falling in love. But I was also always aware of the clock and what I’d “normally” be doing. Everything we did needed to have a “point” because, otherwise, I could be working and achieving.

This man – the first man I had loved in 10 years – was the only person to not let me off the hook if I tried to cancel plans for a few more hours at the computer.

It meant I had to get truly honest with myself. He wasn’t the only person I was making second best to my career. Family, friends… I’d sacrificed meaningful connections with them, too. Life coach Tony Robbins said the quality of your life is the quality of your relationships. Saying those words: “Who am I if I’m not successful?” was the wake-up call I needed.

It took several arguments and a generous helping of patience from my boyfriend for me to understand that success as a human isn’t just about work. I’m not loved or valued because of the number of Instagram followers I have or how many books I’ve sold. He wasn’t asking me to sacrifice my ambition for him: he was simply asking that I make a bit of an effort to make him as important as my Macbook Pro. I knew he was right.

Recently, my parents and I visited my brother in Chicago, and for two weeks I didn’t open my laptop. I let my out of office tell people I was taking a break, and on giving my parents my fullest attention, I remembered that they’re my best friends. I want to make time for them while I still have them. That was a new kind of success for me.

I’m all for celebrating working well but I also want to celebrate living well; to be in the moment with those I love.

Success has become cooking five times a week at home, to music and with love. It is planning day trips and replying to texts on time. Lunchtime walks with my neighbour. It’s checking in on my brother, an ocean away, and sending photos of my day to my mum. It’s doing nothing with my partner. It’s loving.

Work is integral to who I am, and always will be. But I don’t need 14-hour days to prove my worth. I still want to succeed at work and do myself justice but the price

I’m willing to pay has changed. Who am I if I’m not successful, then? Exactly the same person, actually.

“I WANT TO CELEBRATE LIVING WELL”