Try being useless for a while
- Anastasia Karavdina
- Apr 19
- 2 min read
There’s a pattern I keep noticing: in myself, and in many women I work with in Data & AI leadership. At some point, we start measuring our worth through usefulness. Through how much we contribute, how much we help, how much we move things forward.
Because many of us didn’t just arrive in leadership roles by chance; we got here by being reliable, by stepping in when needed, by taking ownership, by holding things together when they could have easily fallen apart. Over time, this turns into something internal, almost like a quiet rule we don’t question anymore: 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑏𝑒 𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙.
This rule doesn’t switch off when life finally gives you space.

A friend of mine recently found herself in a situation that, for many working parents, feels almost unreal: she had the house entirely to herself for almost a week, with the kids away, no immediate responsibilities, no one asking for anything. And yet, instead of slowing down, she filled those days with renovation projects, gardening, fixing things around the house, constantly moving, constantly improving something, all while listening to motivational audiobooks in the background.
Sounds familiar?
For many women, especially those who have been “the reliable one” for years, being still without a clear purpose doesn’t feel like rest. It feels uncomfortable, almost like something is missing, like time is slipping away without being used properly.
So rest starts needing justification:
- A walk should clear your head.
- A book should teach you something.
- A hobby should develop you.
Even doing nothing should at least be “recharging”, because otherwise, what’s the point?
There is no obligation to always be useful: not constantly, not perfectly, not even most of the time. And sometimes, it’s not just acceptable but genuinely necessary to be completely, unapologetically useless and spend time without turning it into an investment, without optimizing it, without attaching a purpose to it or asking what it will give you later.
Because those are the moments when your mind finally gets space to breathe — not to solve, not to deliver, not to improve — but simply to exist.
And interestingly, those are often the moments when something else returns as well: clarity, ideas, a sense of yourself that gets lost when everything becomes about output and usefulness.
So if this feels familiar, it might be worth experimenting with switching that “always be useful” mode off. Not because you’re lowering your standards or becoming less ambitious, but because being constantly useful, composed, and exhausted was never the goal to begin with.
And in the long run, getting yourself back is far more valuable than making every single moment count.