when your mom is a powerhouse and you're ...not
When I was younger, I used to think I was just bad at finishing things.
That I was lazy. Scattered. Undisciplined.
There were times when I could get things done in record time, then there were times where all I could do was nap.
My motivation and drive have never ever been sustainable.
As an adult, I can look back and say that I have accomplished a lot in my life. From parenting, to education, to work, to creativity. BUT, it’s never felt like it was enough.
I’ve never felt the satisfaction that’s supposed to come with diplomas and certificates, wedding vows, and healthy, happy children.
In fact, I remember telling my then-husband that the buzz from graduating from university after 5 long years, 2 cross-country moves, and 3 babies had worn off within the week.
He looked at me like I was nuts. Probably because he had seen me sacrifice every part of my life — including our relationship — to earn that degree, with high honors, no less.
And those 5 years… burned me the hell out. I struggled with severe anxiety. I suffered a series of mini strokes at 21 years old. I couldn’t keep weight on me.
And yet, I would still beat myself up for not doing “enough.”
I felt like an imposter because I knew I lacked the drive other people seemed to have so effortlessly.
I was just pretending to be productive and successful.
I compared myself to others incessantly.
Unconsciously, I was holding myself to the standard that was set before me as a child, by my mother.
She’s a Manifesting Generator. A true force. She moves fast, thinks fast, and acts even faster. I grew up watching her juggle five things at once—often successfully.
She made things happen before others had even decided what they wanted.
Naturally, I thought that’s what I was supposed to do too.
So, I tried to be like her. I thought I was like her.
I thought I was multi-passionate because I had so many interests. And in a way, I am. But I mistook curiosity for capacity.
Every time I tried to juggle all the things, I’d burn out. I’d get excited, make a plan, start strong… and then I’d crash. Hard. Everything would stop, and I’d blame myself… again… for not being “consistent.”
But the fact is that I’m different. Like, way different.
I’m a Mental Projector.
No defined motor. No consistent energy source. No internal pressure to hustle.
My brilliance doesn’t come from doing more—it comes from seeing, guiding, and reflecting.
I’m here to take in the world, deeply, and reflect it back with insight—not to power through it like an endless source of energy.
And when I looked closer, I realized something: My entire idea of how I should be in the world wasn’t mine. It was inherited. Conditioned. Modeled.
I’d internalized my mother’s speed as the standard. Her energy became my blueprint and her rhythm became my ruler.
And I’ve spent years trying to outrun my own design.
It’s only recently that I’ve begun to pause and ask: What if I’m not meant to keep up? What if I’m meant to slow down and see what others miss?
The truth is that Projectors aren’t here to do it all. We’re here to know where energy is best directed. We’re here to wait for the right invitation, the right recognition, the right environment—and then move with aligned clarity.
This isn’t just about Human Design, by the way.
It’s about how easily we absorb the ways of our caregivers. Especially when their energy is “louder” than ours.
We’re conditioned by the people who raise us, long before we’re conscious enough to question it. We inherit beliefs, patterns, coping mechanisms. And often, we wear them like skin.
But what happens when you start peeling those layers off?
For me, it’s looked like redefining success, reclaiming rest, and learning to trust my own timing. It’s looked like honoring my slow clarity instead of trying to manufacture urgency. It’s looked like doing less, but more meaningfully.
And I only got here after severe burnout. After running my adrenals into the GROUND.
If you’re feeling burnt out, an abundance of resistance, or just consistently frustrated/disappointed/angry/bitter, it might be time to go within and listen to that little voice inside.
Ask yourself: Whose pace am I keeping up with? Whose voice am I trying to live up to?
You might be surprised whose footsteps you’ve been trying to fill.
Until next time,
June.
🦋
This piece is from my Human Design newsletter, Align by Design.