A few months BC (Before COVID), I read Year of Yes, by Shauna Rhimes. The premise is deceptively simple: Despite incredible professional success, the Queen of Shaunda Land felt lonely and unfulfilled. On a dare from her sister, Shaunda spent a year saying “Yes” to everything – speaking engagements, parties, working out, salads, events – and she found her new life surprisingly rewarding and exciting in ways she hadn’t imagined it could be.

I was inspired and energized as she told her story, but as I considered my own life, I felt like I was very, very far away from So Much Yes.

I said no. A lot.

No to my kids who wanted me to snuggle with them when there was dinner to be made. No to the books I wanted to read before they were due at the library because of a work deadline. No to spending time after dinner with my husband when there were lunches and backpacks to prep. So. Much. No.

And then suddenly everything stopped. When the stay at home orders came into effect, my consulting job came to a halt. School closed. We were safe, at home, together, and thankful… but now what?

I still said no, but for different reasons. No, we can’t sleep in, we have schoolwork to do. No, we can’t have a playdate. No, we can’t go to the park.

We navigated the chaos of remote schooling and Zoom calls and all the rest. It’s morbid to admit it, but this is my sweet spot. I’m good in a crisis. I morph into Super Woman. I am calm and collected and focused. I make lists and mark the items off methodically. I am an undeterred problem solver. I will kick the ass of this virus. And for a while, I seem to be winning. At least in my mind.

Too many late nights in a row leaves me exhausted, mentally, and physically. My ability to solve problems is no match for a crumbling supply chain. No amount of list-making helps my kids feel better about canceled birthday parties, soccer seasons, closed parks. I can't fix a global pandemic by strategy, no matter how late into the night I hunt for answers.

As it happens, professor and TedTalk phenom Brené Brown has a name for this. It's called Over-Functioning, and she (also the oldest child of four and a life-long high-achiever like myself) is also a member of the OF Squad.

In her podcast, Unlocking Us, she tells the story of a family crisis. Like the oldest child, the good girl that she always sought to be, Brené is ready for this. She takes on all the whole list of things to do, even though her siblings are ready and willing to help.

Her family reminds her that they are there for her. She literally collapses and allows herself to experience the sadness and fear that lurks behind the shield of over-functioning. She gets to say no to doing it all.

I’m on my way to collapse myself.

Just when I feel like I need it most, my I’ve got this approach comes screeching to a halt. No is more prevalent than ever. No patience. No humor. No sleep. Still so much no.

I lay in bed, replaying the previous nightmare of a day: We are all sick of each other, and, if I’m honest, I’m sick of myself. As I fall into a fitful sleep, a thought occurs to me: What if I just said yes? What if I give up the Over-functioning, and try instead, just living? I turn off my alarm and vow to try.

In the morning, I feel rested, even peaceful.

My bed-headed boys tumble into bed with me. Can we stay in pajamas? Yes, I say. Why not? They look at each other. Really? Sure.

Can we play Legos? Sure, for a little while during breakfast, then we should do some school. Later we can play more, OK?

We follow the school program as best we can. We watch birds from the porch. We cuddle together for lunchtime and Trolls movie features. Dinner is often late. Bedtimes are, too. I still lose my temper from time to time. I get anxious when I let my mind go to dark places. I have to say no, but less often, and it feels good. It’s a start.

Shaunda and Brené are both right: There's power in saying yes, and there's power in saying no. The secret is knowing what works on any given day in this strange new world. That's the real Super Power, and I’ve had it all along.

This essay originally appeared in Fete Lifestyle Magazine, May 2020