Stop Waiting for the Perfect Moment — This Year, You Start Showing Up for You
Not a Year-in-Review. Not a Resolution. Just a Promise to Try.
There’s something sneaky about the idea of “when the time is right.”
When work slows down.
When the kids are older.
When things calm down a bit.
When I have more energy…
Then I’ll show up for myself.
Except… then keeps moving.
Meanwhile, whole years sneak by with you on autopilot—getting everyone where they need to be, keeping the wheels on, doing the invisible work that makes life run—
—and somehow, you’re not fully in the life you’re working so hard to create.
You’ve been building it for the people you love…
but from here on out it also gets to be for you.
No more waiting for “when there’s time.”
This is where you start creating your time.
And the second you even think about claiming some of it, your brain slams on the brakes:
I can’t do that.
Something will get dropped.
And that can’t happen.
So you tighten the grip. Hold a little harder. Hustle a little more. Tell yourself this is just how it has to be.
But the quiet truth?
“When the time is right” doesn’t arrive. It gets made.
It shows up because you did something—said "no" to one thing, asked for help, told someone "do it yourself," let something shift (or drop)—
—and you discovered that everything didn't come crashing down.
Something shifts and it’s still okay.
Something gets dropped and it’s still not a crisis.
Or someone else picks it up in their own not-how-you’d-do-it-but-good-enough way…
…and you still get to keep that time for you.
That’s the win.
This post is for the part of you that’s been patiently waiting for “when the time is right.”
Now is your time—and we’re going to talk about how you go get it and stop the waiting.
So no, this isn’t a “new year, new you” post.
I’m not here to sell you a personality transplant or a 5am miracle routine you’ll resent by week 3.
This is about something quieter, deeper, and honestly more important:
giving you your time.
The real reason it feels so hard to “find time”
Because time isn’t just minutes on a clock; it’s bandwidth.
When you’re already running close to max capacity, your brain goes into scarcity mode: it narrows to what’s urgent, what’s loud, what might go wrong. You get very good at survival logistics… and very bad at spaciousness. Mullainathan and Shafir describe this as the psychology of scarcity — and yes, it applies to time, not just money.
And then there’s the invisible job you’re doing that no one put on the calendar: the mental load (anticipating needs, planning, deciding, and monitoring). That “always-on” cognitive labor is real labor.
So if you’ve been telling yourself, Why can’t I just manage my time better?
Respectfully: it’s not because you can’t; it’s because you’re carrying the invisible.
Also: decision fatigue is a thing . The more choices you make (especially under stress), the harder it gets to make good ones later — which is why “I’ll decide tonight” so often turns into whatever is easiest.
You know that end-of-day feeling where even choosing what to watch, what to eat, or what to reply to feels like too much? That’s not a character flaw. That’s a maxed-out system.
Reframe: you don’t “find” time. You claim it.
Time doesn’t appear. Time is reallocated.
And the part that matters most isn’t just having more minutes — it’s feeling more time affluence (the sense that you have enough time), which research links with greater well-being.
Usually by doing one (or more) of these three things:
Drop what doesn’t actually matter (even if it matters to your inner perfectionist)
Delegate what isn’t meant to be held by you alone
Design your week so “you” are not an optional add-on
And yes, the first time you do this, it may feel illegal.
That’s normal.
Don’t give in!!
Step 1: Find your “time taxes”
These are the sneaky things that take more time than they deserve.
The Perfection Tax: doing something at a Level 10 (or even an 8 or 9) when only a Level 6 is sufficient
The Rescue Tax: stepping in before someone else struggles (or learns)
The Admin Tax: the endless tiny tasks (forms, emails, scheduling, remembering)
The Emotional Thermostat Tax: managing everyone’s moods so the house stays stable
Quick practice (5 minutes):
Write down the top 10 things that make you feel “pressed for time” most days. Don’t edit. Don’t justify. Just list.
Now circle the ones that are:
not truly necessary
necessary but not required to be done by you
necessary but being done at a higher standard than needed
That’s your map.
Step 2: Choose a “minimum viable standard” (and live to tell the tale)
This is where you stop doing everything like your reputation is at stake.
Pick 3 categories and decide what “good enough” looks like for you, right now.
Examples:
Meals: “healthy-ish and fed”
House: “sanitary and functional”
School stuff: “supported, not micromanaged”
Work: “excellent, not endless”
The goal isn’t lowering your standards forever.
The goal is lowering them on purpose so you can stop paying for perfection with your life force.
Step 3: Delegate ownership (and don’t manage it)
This one matters, because it’s usually where your nervous system argues with you.
This isn’t “help” like: Tell me what to do and I’ll assist.
This is delegation like: This is yours. You think, plan, and execute.
Because if you’re still carrying the planning/remembering/monitoring, you didn’t delegate; you just added management.
And if you feel the urge to snatch it back… don’t.
That urge is your system trying to reduce the discomfort in the moment. Sometimes it’s trying to spare someone else the effort (or the learning curve). Sometimes it’s trying to spare you the anxiety of “what if it isn’t done right.” Either way, it pulls you right back into overfunctioning.
When you delegate without managing and you don’t take it back, you’re shifting the pattern.
That’s the moment you just gave yourself time.
It may feel weird, scary, clunky, or like you hate it because it isn’t your way.
But when you keep practicing “hand it off and leave it off,” it gets easier. Habit-change research backs this up: consistency matters, and it often takes longer than people expect for a new pattern to feel automatic. (One large study found an average of about 66 days, with wide variation.)
This is rarely an overnight shift. Slow, consistent actions turn it into the reality you want.
Step 4: “Buy time” when you can (without guilt)
If you have any financial wiggle room at all, consider spending a little money to save time — grocery delivery, a cleaner twice a month, a babysitter swap, a meal kit, outsourcing a task you dread.
Buying time isn’t indulgent. It’s a strategy.
Step 5: Create a small “time island” — and guard it like it matters (because it does)
Not two hours. Not a retreat. Not “someday.”
Start with 15–30 minutes, 3x per week.
If 15 minutes feels like too much, try 10. If 10 minutes feels like too much, I’m really glad you’re reading this, because you need your time. If 10 minutes feels like it can’t be done, this is for you.
And don’t rely on motivation. Use a simple if-then plan (an implementation intention):
“If it’s Monday/Wednesday/Friday at 7:30, then I sit down with coffee and write/read/walk/stretch.”
You’re not making a new decision every time — you’re following a plan you already chose.
The fear underneath: “If I take time for me, something will fall apart.”
Maybe.
And also — this is the part no one tells you gently enough:
Some things only “work” because you are overfunctioning.
So yes, when you stop doing that, the system will wobble.
That wobble is not proof you were wrong. It’s proof you were holding too much.
Try this this week: one small reclaim
Pick one:
Drop one nonessential thing (and let it stay dropped)
Delegate one full responsibility (ownership, not help)
Make one time island (15–30 minutes, scheduled, protected)
Then watch what happens.
Most of the time the lesson is: It was loud in my head, but survivable in real life.
That’s how trust gets rebuilt.
Reflection
If this got your attention—touched a nerve, spoke to you, or just felt uncomfortably familiar—try a short check-in with yourself this week:
What feels most true for me right now about how I use my time?
If I were being even a little more honest with myself, what would I admit I want more of this year—for me?
What is one small shift I can make for myself this week?
Let whatever comes up be enough.
This isn’t a reinvention. It’s a reclaim. Start small—then notice what changes.
Want help turning this into a real plan for your real week (without guilt and without a personality transplant)?
Book a consult: https://eileenlifecoaching.as.me
Or reach out: info@eileenlifecoaching.com
Interested in More Articles
This Is For You
You don’t need a dramatic resolution.
Or a dramatic “new you.”
You need your time.
Time to the part of you that isn’t on that list.
Time that belongs to you.
Time for a life that includes you — not just everyone else.
No perfect moment required.
Start claiming your time.
References & Resources
Mullainathan, S., & Shafir, E. Scarcity: Why Having Too Little Means So Much (overview: https://www.apa.org/monitor/2014/02/scarcity)
Daminger, A. (2019). The Cognitive Dimension of Household Labor. American Sociological Review (SAGE): https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/0003122419859007
Pignatiello, G. A., et al. (2018). Decision Fatigue: A Conceptual Analysis. (PMC): https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC6119549/
Whillans, A. V., et al. (2017). Buying time promotes happiness. PNAS: https://www.pnas.org/doi/10.1073/pnas.1706541114
Gollwitzer, P. M. (1999). Implementation intentions (PDF): https://www.prospectivepsych.org/sites/default/files/pictures/Gollwitzer_Implementation-intentions-1999.pdf
Lally, P., van Jaarsveld, C. H. M., Potts, H. W. W., & Wardle, J. (2010). How are habits formed: Modelling habit formation in the real world. European Journal of Social Psychology. https://doi.org/10.1002/ejsp.674 (summary: https://www.ucl.ac.uk/news/2009/aug/how-long-does-it-take-form-habit)
