I believe I was born an overachiever. Whether it has come naturally or I have worked tirelessly to make it happen, I’m always doing the most, Winning every accolade on awards day? Check. Being so unaccustomed to earning anything less than an A that my first B sent me to the principal’s office because I couldn’t stop crying? True story. Feeling like a failure if I don’t score or do perfectly? That’s me!

Being an overachiever is both a blessing and a curse. There are the highs of always having your effective and efficient ducks in a row, but there are also the lows by way of the cost it takes to constantly exceed expectations. Many overachievers burn out because doing and being it all is exhausting.

Enter Kate Williams. Kate is also an overachiever, and she is here with her first self-help book, How to Stop Trying, to help overachievers feel seen and validate their experience. More of an affirming read that you will find yourself nodding your head along to rather than a how-to guide, Kate guides overachievers on the path of self-realization and reflection. With chapters such as Maybe You’re Just Tired, I Believe in a Thing Called Luck, and Acceptance Isn’t Settling, Kate shares her philosophy and research as to why some of us are driven to overachieve, and how we might choose to scale things back in sake of our health and sanity.

As someone who maximizes every moment of every day, and always strives for nothing less than perfect, I found versions of myself throughout How to Stop Trying. Kate reads like a best friend, giving you permission to take a breath and just be. This book was an eye-opening read for me that made me reflect on where in my life I can take it down a notch and just enjoy.

Step one: Stop trying. Step two: Keep reading anyway.

This book is a fascinating mix of “rage against the machine” and “but actually, you put yourself in the machine, so…” The author goes hard against misogyny and capitalism, yet repeatedly reminds us that all the pressure we feel is self-imposed. So which is it? Are we victims of society, or are we just really bad at saying no to extra work emails? The answer, apparently, is yes.

The writing is engaging, often funny, and occasionally thought-provoking—until you hit a sentence that makes you side-eye the page. Case in point: a passing mention of a MAGA-hat-wearing uncle making an offensive comment. The issue? The comment was genuinely rude, but bringing up the hat felt like an unnecessary political jab. I’m here for a discussion on personal growth, not a reminder of my Thanksgiving dinner trauma.

Overall, there’s some solid advice buried under layers of contradictions and social commentary. If you can get past the mixed messaging and occasional off-putting asides, you might walk away with some useful insights. Just don’t try too hard to make sense of it all—ironically, that’s kind of the point.