Stop Saying “Only”
Why You’re Doing More Than You Think
At the weekend, I was chatting with a friend who loves swimming. It’s her exercise, her space, the way she resets her head before the day begins.
She just started a new job three weeks ago. The commute’s longer, which means a little less time in the pool each morning.
She still goes seven days a week, but now she’s only swimming 40 lengths before work. She used to do 60 or 70. At weekends, she’ll often do 80.
So she told me this with a bit of disappointment in her voice:
“I can only manage 40 lengths a day now.”
And I couldn’t help but reframe it:
“Hang on a second. You’re swimming 280 lengths a week. On top of a brand-new full-time job, two children, a husband who works seven days a week, caring for your mum, and running a household. You’re not only doing 40 lengths. You’re doing more than most people dream of.”
The Minimising Habit
That conversation made me realise how often women do this.
We downplay. We minimise. We tack on the word only as if the things we’re doing don’t count.
“I only sent that one email.”
“I only did a quick workout.”
“I only managed a short walk with the dog.”
But those “onlys” don’t exist in isolation. They sit on top of everything else you’re already carrying. The job, the house, the kids, the parents, the bills, the emotional load.
So it’s never only. It’s only, on top of absolutely everything else.
Why “Only” Isn’t Small at All
Here’s the funny thing about only. It sounds like a tiny word, but what it usually hides is something massive.
It’s never only a quick walk with the dog. It’s the walk on top of a full day of work, washing waiting at home, and three messages buzzing on your phone.
It’s never only an email - it’s the email on top of school runs, the dinner you’ve yet to cook, and the mental gymnastics of remembering everyone’s birthdays.
And in my friend’s case? It’s never only 40 lengths - it’s 40 lengths on top of an entire life that’s already jam-packed.
And for me? It’s feeding everyone.
I’ll sometimes say, “I can’t decide what to do for dinner tonight” - which is decision fatigue in a nutshell.
But what goes into that “only” dinner?
Writing the list.
Doing the food shop.
Lugging it all home.
Unpacking, putting it away.
Planning meals.
Remembering who hates mushrooms and who suddenly decided they don’t like pasta.
Prepping the meal, cooking the meal
Washing up
And finally - putting everything away.
That “only dinner” is practically another job description.
And that’s the problem with only. It tricks your mind into thinking you’re not doing much - while your body knows you’re carrying the load of a second (or third) full-time role.
That’s when autopilot takes over. That’s when you find yourself running on fumes and wondering why you’re so tired when, on paper, you’ve “only” done a few little things.
Flipping the Script on “Only”
So what happens when you catch yourself and drop the “only”?
You realise that the quick walk wasn’t small. It was the breather that kept you sane in between everything else.
You realise that one email wasn’t a failure - it was progress, squeezed in between 101 other invisible jobs.
And you realise that even if you didn’t tick everything off, you still carried the whole week on your back and kept it moving.
It feels lighter when you see the full picture. And once you notice it, you can start giving yourself credit instead of constantly moving the bar further out of reach.
Because let’s be honest: your “only” is someone else’s “wow.”
A Thought for You
Where in your own life are you slipping “only” into the sentence?
“I only…” when actually you’re juggling 25 invisible things alongside it.
Try flipping it this week. Instead of minimising, notice. Instead of brushing it off, give yourself credit.
Pausing to acknowledge yourself isn’t indulgent. It’s necessary. It’s the bit that keeps you from tipping over into exhaustion and the bit that reminds you:
You’re already doing more than enough.