I'm a born overachiever in the most literal sense. My mom went into labor on a Sunday. The doctor checked on her and then said he'd be down the hall watching the football game. "Oh no, you won't!" she said. "This baby is coming right now!" And she was right. I had things to do and places to be. There was no time to waste!

Being an overachiever is one of my greatest strengths and biggest weaknesses. It is what I owe many of my successes to. But it has also caused me great stress, anxiety, and depression.

I've learned that my need to overachieve is grounded in perfectionism and a fear of failure.

I broke my ankle running down a rocky hill during a cross county race in high school. It hurt so bad, but I didn't stop. To me, it wasn't even an option. After the race, I limped over to my coach and told him my ankle hurt really bad. He said to cool down, so I did. Then, I endured the long bus ride home, and my dad took me to the ER. When the doctor came out of the x-ray room and told me my ankle was broken, I didn’t believe him!

In college, I partied hard and studied hard. I was told I had a distinctive walk across campus: head down, backpack bouncing, as I made my way to the library for another marathon study session. I was obsessed with time. I had trouble sleeping. I would grab a textbook and start studying until I fell back asleep. When finals came around, I made my friend calculate how bad I could do on the exam and still get an "A" in the class.

One day, a friend told me she had never seen someone get so much done while being so tired. She was right. I was "tired but wired" - fueled by my need to achieve.

It's no wonder my body eventually gave out.

My college bestie

When I was little and had trouble sleeping, I would sneak into my older sister's room and climb into bed with her. Sometimes, I would touch her with my foot just to know she was there. Instantly, I'd fall asleep.

In my junior year of college, my sleep problems turned into not being able to sleep at all. I tried climbing into my best friend's dorm room bed, but it didn't help. My roommate invited me to her parents’ house off campus to sleep in a real bed, but that didn't work either.

During law school, I started dating my now husband of 20 years. From the beginning, he supported my battle with perfectionism and overachieving. He kept the phone near him at night in case I needed to call because I woke up stressed. He convinced me I wouldn't be the only person in my class to fail out after the first semester, and he sat quietly with me at the bookstore while I studied.

I'll never forget (because he'll never let me!) the day I looked at him and said, "You're just as important to me as law school." (Insert the hand over the face emoji!)

There was only one job that I wanted. One. It was the one I had envisioned since I was a little girl playing "lawyer" in the backseat of the car. The first time I applied for the job, I didn’t get it. A few years later, I tried again and discovered they had just hired someone.

I held back my tears until I was alone. Then, I called my husband and let it all out. I still sent in my resume though, and a couple weeks later, I was called in for an interview. I guess the third time’s a charm because I got the job! I remember driving home, blasting "On Top of the World" by Imagine Dragons.

The first few years back to work, I was head down: learning, staying late, bringing work home… the whole nine yards. Between work and kids, I had no time or headspace for anything else. After a few years, the thought of starting a blog crept up on me again.

In the meantime, while juggling a full-time job with marriage, motherhood, and some semblance of a social life, my husband often told me how far I had come. At first, I didn't buy it and thought he was just being nice. But after some time, I started to recognize it. I found myself in situations where I could envision how it would have affected me in the past versus how I handle it now- with more ease.