The Invisible Rules I Realised I Was Living By

It's week three of the summer holidays and I'm hiding in the toilet, frantically replying to a client email while my two excited daughters wait by the front door for the splash park.

I press send and shout through the door, “Why aren't you ready? We're leaving now!” knowing full well it's me who's neither physically nor mentally in the moment.

We're in the car and I'm driving on what I can only describe as autopilot, mentally rehearsing tomorrow's course.

Behind me is a chorus of, “Mum, play Call Me Maybe!” for what feels like the tenth time.

We get there. Picnic down. They run off and play.

I open the bag… why didn't I pack anything for me?

I'm there.

But am I really there?

That evening I'm back hiding in the toilet.

Only this time I'm crying.

When I reflect on last summer—or, if I'm honest, any season where life feels like a list of competing demands—I feel my chest tighten.

I remember that feeling of being pulled in a million different directions. Trying to give everyone what they needed from me, rarely asking what I needed from myself.

I thought my problem was that I was too busy. That there was simply too much to do all at once.

Often mistaking availability and attention for care.

But I recently uncovered something more uncomfortable to accept.

Being busy wasn't creating the problem. It was revealing it.

For as long as I could remember, I'd been living my life by a set of invisible rules.

I don't even know where they came from.

Maybe childhood.

Maybe work.

Maybe social media.

Maybe simply watching how everyone else seemed to live.

What I do know is that I'd never consciously chosen them.

These rules had been quietly organising my life.

The funny thing was seeing them written down.

So why am I letting them hijack my life?

So this summer I'm running an experiment.

What might change if I chose how to spend my time and attention on purpose, instead of living by invisible rules I'd never consciously chosen?

I'm letting go of those invisible rules and replacing them with four simple commitments.

I am not expecting to roll into September feeling like I have stepped out of a spa retreat, but wouldn't it be nice to still recognise myself when the dust settles?

Maybe we all have invisible rules quietly shaping our lives.

Perhaps the most important question isn't where they came from.