When My 100% Doesn’t Look Like Yours.

Living with mental illness means that my version of “giving it my all” doesn’t always look like my partner’s. My 100% is not the same as theirs, and that difference can be hard to explain, harder to live with, and sometimes hardest of all to accept.

From the outside, it might seem like I’m underperforming, not meeting expectations, or simply not trying hard enough. But the truth is, I am trying. I’m giving everything I have within the limits of my body, mind, and energy. The pace my partner can sustain for weeks, I might only be able to match for a few days before I burn out. What looks like “lack of effort” is often just the reality of my capacity.

It’s not easy being the partner whose 100% still doesn’t measure up. I know it can be frustrating to feel like you’re carrying more, or that my effort doesn’t match yours. I understand that tension. But what I need most in those moments isn’t anger or criticism, it’s patience. Because when the conversation turns into fighting about my “lack of effort,” it doesn’t motivate me. It discourages me. It drains the little energy I have left and makes me less able to show up at all.

Mental illness means that even ordinary tasks can take extraordinary energy. Matching someone else’s pace feels like sprinting a marathon. I can push myself for a while, but eventually the exhaustion catches up. Burnout isn’t laziness, it’s the inevitable crash after running beyond my limits. And when I crash, it takes longer to recover, leaving me even further behind.

I don’t have a quick fix for this. I can’t change the fact that my 100% looks different. But I do know what helps: patience, understanding, and grace. Meeting me where I am, instead of where you wish I could be, makes all the difference. Encouragement fuels me; anger drains me. Compassion keeps me moving forward; criticism makes me shut down.

Relationships aren’t about keeping score. They’re about walking together, even if one person’s steps are slower or shorter. My pace may not match yours, but I’m still walking beside you. I’m still showing up. And if we can both accept that my 100% is different, then maybe we can find a rhythm that honors us both.