The Hustle and the Humanity
How I nearly burnt out at the top of my game – and what I did next
There’s a version of “top of my game” that looks a lot like success from the outside. The full diary. The thriving business. The constant output. The appearance of having it all together.
From the inside, it felt very different.
The Reality Behind the Achievement
When I say I was at the top of my game, what I actually mean is this …
- I was white-knuckling a large brick-and-mortar business through a pandemic and a cost-of-living crisis, willing it to survive through sheer force of effort and commitment
- I had lots of friends, but hadn’t realised how many relationships were transactional rather than authentic
- I was navigating a business partnership that had become fundamentally incompatible; different values, different visions, the kind of slow erosion that’s exhausting in a way that’s hard to put into words
- On top of this, I was going through a complicated pregnancy, then arriving into early motherhood with a plan for how I’d “work through it” that turned out to be (to put it nicely) completely unrealistic
I had built my identity on what I produced. My self-worth was fully entangled in output, in achievement, in the external markers of success – the beautiful studio, the glowing feedback, the packed schedule. I didn’t realise how much I’d been running on fumes until I was completely empty.
The business looked successful. I looked successful.
But I was operating from a place of survival, not alignment. That gap, between the appearance of success and the felt experience of it, is where burnout quietly lives.
What I Did Next: The Trust Fall
I left the studio. I stepped fully back from everything I’d built and surrendered to the unknown. Not because I had a plan. Believe me, I did not 🥲 I knew I was burnt out, but I had no idea what was going to come next.
It was a trust fall in the most literal sense: arms out, eyes closed, letting go.
For someone who had always had a plan, who had always been producing and building and doing, this was terrifying. And also, just maybe, the most bravest thing I’ve ever done.
What Happened Next
I put my recovery and motherhood first. I let go of anything that felt too heavy to carry. I went to bed at the same time as Rei so I could actually feel rested. I did breathwork during feeds. I had six-inch roots and genuinely didn’t care.
The woman who had always had it together was learning to just be.
I stopped doing any marketing or launching anything new. I worked with a handful of people who reached out organically and were a good fit, who were all wonderful. I taught during nap times and an evening or two a week, then gradually during nursery hours as Rei grew. I kept my world small. I protected my energy like it was the most valuable resource I had – because it truly was.
Then, in the past 2 years, I got my yoga practice back. For so long my body hadn’t felt like my own – pregnancy, birth, breastfeeding, the relentlessness of early motherhood.
Returning to my practice – not to teach, not to perform, but to truly be in it – was like coming home to myself. The moment my practice felt like mine again was one of the best of my life.
I had built the capacity. Now I began to fill it.
More confidence. More opportunities. More energy. More me.
My self-worth was no longer tied to how I performed.
I started to get clearer on how I wanted my life to feel, and then I built from there.
And then this month I launched the idea I’d been sitting on uncertainly for two years – just to my mailing list – and those handful of spaces sold out in the same week.
I’m being so intentional. I’m not taking on as much as I could, because I don’t want my schedule to feel full. I know that for me, white space equals a happy self. That intentionality is what comes from getting clear and aligned with how you want your life to feel.
HOW YOU CAN DO THE SAME: A 5-STEP PROCESS
If any of this resonates – the relentless doing, the achievement-as-identity, the gap between what your life looks like and what it feels like – here’s a gentle framework to begin your own version of this process.
You don’t have to burn down everything to start. You just have to be honest about what you’re actually carrying
- Name what’s depleting you. Not to fix it immediately, but to see it clearly. Write down every responsibility, commitment, and expectation (including the ones you’ve placed on yourself) that is currently draining your energy. Which of these are non-negotiable right now? Which ones are you holding because you feel you should, or because you’re afraid to put them down? Awareness is always the first step.
- Identify what can be put down, even temporarily. You don’t have to quit everything, but there is almost always something you can pause, delegate, simplify, or release – even for a season. Giving yourself permission to put something down is not failure. It’s discernment. It’s choosing yourself. What would feel like relief to let go of, even for three months?
- Get radically honest about your capacity. Most high-achievers are operating at 110% and calling it normal. What would it look like to work from 70% instead? To have evenings that belong to you? To not check your phone first thing in the morning? Capacity isn’t just about time; it’s about nervous system bandwidth. Build some back before you try to fill it.
- Get clear on how you want your life to feel. Not what you want to achieve or accomplish, but how do you want to feel on an ordinary Tuesday? Grounded? Spacious? Present with your children? Creative? Energised? This becomes your compass. Every decision, every opportunity, every yes and no gets filtered through it: does this move me toward or away from how I want to feel?
- Build slowly and intentionally from that place. Resist the urge to fill the space straight away. Rest is productive. Clarity takes time to emerge. When you do begin to rebuild – your work, your schedule, your goals – do it from alignment rather than urgency. Ask: does this feel like expansion, or does it feel like pressure? Your nervous system knows the difference.
You don’t have to earn rest
The version of success I was chasing was never really mine. It was built on external metrics – looking a certain way, performing at a certain level, producing at a certain pace. What I have now is quieter and far more real.
A practice that feels like mine. Work that genuinely lights me up. A business built around my life, not the other way around. And the knowledge that white space isn’t wasted time – it’s where I do my best thinking, my deepest breathing, and my most honest living.
If you’re reading this and something is resonating – if you’re at your own version of “top of the game” and wondering why it doesn’t feel the way it was supposed to, this is your gentle nudge.
You don’t have to wait until you’re fully burnt out to choose differently. You can start now. You can start small.
You just have to be willing to put down the performance and pick up the truth of what you actually need. That’s where everything changes.
COACHING
You were never meant to choose between your ambition and yourself.
Nervous system coaching for high-achievers
If you’re ticking every box on paper but quietly running on empty, this is where that changes. Homecoming is a 1:1 coaching programme built around the body, not just the mind.
What we work on together:
- Nervous system regulation and somatic movement
- Rebuilding alignment between your life and your values
- Build your capacity and resilience so that you can create the life you dream of – without the burnout
The Burnout Blueprint Free Download
A 25-question self-audit to help you understand where you are and what you need most right now.
