All or Nothing: Learning to Walk the Middle Way

I’ve always leaned towards the extremes.

For much of my life, I thought that was a strength. I was the kind of person who could go all in, commit fully, push myself hard, and get results. Whether it was study, work, health, or relationships, I didn’t do things by halves.

But over time, I began to realise that this pattern—this addiction to extremes, was costing me far more than it was giving.

After my youngest son Archie was born, this became painfully clear. He was just eight weeks old when I laced up my trainers again and started running. Not gentle jogging either. I was getting up at 5am and running for one to two hours, six days a week. I was fasting every other day. The weight dropped off. People probably thought I was thriving.

But I was burning out. Fast.

I can see now that I was trying to regain a sense of control, of identity, of something solid to hold onto. But in the process, I pushed my body to the brink and completely bypassed what it needed most: rest, nourishment, kindness.

This same tendency showed up in other areas too.

In friendships, I would cut people off quickly. If we didn’t align on the big stuff—health, parenting, values, I didn’t see the point in maintaining a connection. It was black-and-white thinking, even if it came from a place of wanting to protect my energy. Thankfully, there were a few exceptions. And I’m grateful for them. They reminded me that relationships, like healing, live in the grey.

This all or nothing pattern is something I still struggle with. It’s sneaky. It disguises itself as discipline, dedication, discernment. But often, it’s coming from fear or old wounds trying to protect me from uncertainty or pain.

These days, I’m learning to walk the middle way.

Not perfectly. Not always gracefully. But with more awareness.

It means asking myself, “What’s the kindest thing I could do right now?” instead of “What’s the most impressive?”

It means letting myself rest without guilt.

It means staying open to people who see the world differently without needing to agree on everything.

It means recognising that healing doesn’t happen in the extremes, it happens in the spaces in between.

The middle way isn’t bland. It’s not mediocre. It’s powerful. It’s where nuance lives. Where true choice lives. Where the body and soul finally feel safe enough to soften.

So if you’ve ever lived in the extremes, if you’ve swung between overdoing and shutting down, between obsession and avoidance—you’re not alone. You’re not broken.

You’re just being invited, again and again, to return to the middle.

To the space where life gets to be a little more gentle. And a lot more real.