Doing Less and Being More
In my early twenties, I took a strange amount of pride in calling myself a human-doing instead of a human being. I can’t remember where I first heard the phrase—definitely wasn’t clever enough to come up with it on my own—but when I did, I felt seen. Yes, exactly. I am a doing. Constantly moving. Always achieving. Never still. And that’s how I liked it.
Looking back, I now realize that human doing was just a cute, sugar-coated way of admitting I had major emotional avoidance issues. I wasn’t some empowered go-getter; I was a busybody on overdrive, running from stillness like I owed her money. At the time, it felt productive—like I was advancing, making things happen. But with a little more age and self-awareness under my belt, I can see the truth: I was all action, no reflection. Exhausted, goal-driven, and shockingly stressed to the max.
That’s not to say ambition is bad. It’s just… incomplete when it’s not balanced with something else. For years, I was in a constant state of yang-ing with zero yin-ing—all push, no flow. And let me tell you, my nervous system was screaming for a break. So, enter: intuition. Receiving. Rest.
I’ve started seeing this whole shift through the lens of masculine and feminine energy. And the more I lean into my feminine energy—the softness, the allowing, the surrender—the stronger, more grounded, and, quite frankly, badder I feel. Masculine energy is all about action: assertiveness, logic, goal-setting, rationality, and doing. It’s the drive to get stuff done. Feminine energy, on the other hand, is about intuition, empathy, creativity, receptivity, and connection. It’s the art of being rather than doing. Both are essential. But in a culture that glorifies hustle, independence, and non-stop productivity, it’s easy to lose yourself in the masculine. We wear burnout like a badge of honor, convincing ourselves that slowing down means falling behind.
BRB, gotta girl boss my way into an MLM—JK! No shade, I just couldn’t resist. Please don’t come for me, Arbonne.
Anyway. The thing is, we’ve been conditioned to equate needing with weakness. Hyper-independence is praised, while receptivity—allowing support, love, and ease—feels unnatural, even uncomfortable. And if you’ve ever dealt with rejection, abandonment, or self-worth struggles (hi, it’s me), receiving can feel entirely impossible. But here’s the thing: learning to receive is actually one of the most powerful things you can do.
For my fellow recovering over-functioners, constantly being in human-doing mode isn’t just exhausting—it actually pushes people away. I thought my endless giving and doing made me a better friend, partner, and human. In reality, it was a control mechanism. By always being the giver, I was avoiding the vulnerability of receiving. But true connection isn’t just about loving—it’s about being loved, too. And that’s the real challenge, isn’t it? We’ve all heard “love and be loved,” but we tend to focus on the loving part, assuming being loved is automatic. It’s not. Receiving love requires trust. It requires the belief that you are inherently worthy—not because of what you do, but simply because you are.
Holy moly, this shift changes everything. Once you stop equating your worth with constant productivity, things start aligning effortlessly. You’re no longer just doing for the sake of doing—you’re actually living. You make space for joy, for connection, for magic. And for the first time, you can actually enjoy the things you’ve worked so hard to build.
Here’s something funny (read: slightly tragic). I’m great at leaning into my feminine energy when I’m single. Carefree? Check. Playful? Check. Ready to manic-pixie-dream-girl my way into a stranger’s heart at a jazz bar? Check. But the moment I got into a relationship? Boom. Human-doing mode, activated.
I love my partner deeply. And because I love him, I started over-functioning—giving, doing, over-extending—until I was running myself ragged. I got so focused on protecting our relationship that I forgot to let myself be loved. And surprise, surprise: that made me exhausting to be around. Because when you’re in that energy, nothing feels reciprocal—even if it is.
Since realizing this, I’ve been mildly obsessed with myself. In the healthiest way, of course. I’ve been prioritizing joy, creativity, and me—focusing on what fills my cup and trusting that the rest will follow. And let me tell you, I feel SO. MUCH. BETTER. Because at my core? I’m soft. I’m creative. I’m intuitive. And when I embrace that—when I stop trying to control everything and instead let life flow—I feel like me. And from that place, I can love others in a way that feels genuine and true to myself.
Seriously. There’s something revolutionary about realizing you don’t have to earn love. That simply being—without constantly proving your worth—is enough. It’s a feeling that no amount of doing can compare to.
So, to bring this full circle, let me offer you some gentle advice:
Chill. The hell. Out.
Take a breath. Make space for joy. Paint something ugly. Write a bad poem. Start a blog. Go to yoga. Have a night out with friends or stay in bed an extra hour. Take the nap. Accept the compliment. Accept the help. Accept the love.
Stop human doing and just be. Be. Be. Be.
Trust me—your soul (and your relationships) will thank you for it.
With all my heart,
Your Maddy
