On Burnout and Becoming (One Year Later)
Here’s the thing about functional freeze as a recovering overachiever: you rarely see it coming. You normalize the hustle, rebrand exhaustion as excellence, and before you know it—you’re untethered. Unhinged, if you will. The only way out? A full-stop, total unplug. I know because I’ve been there. Now, a year on the other side, I’m finally ready to talk about it.
So let’s unpack it.
The Beginning
Since childhood, I’ve been wired for overdrive. I was the straight-A, honors-track, over-involved, high-functioning student who graduated early, twice. I led community initiatives, chaired youth groups, and volunteered in between. My value was so deeply entangled with achievement that stillness felt unnatural. “Doing the most” on the fast track was simply… my default. I actually preferred my plate nice and overloaded, and those closest to me know it was my comfort zone. I was happily “booked and busy.”
When I reached leadership positions that came with larger pressures, I didn’t flinch at 60-hour weeks or staying up til 3 a.m. working on deadlines. I knew all the buzzwords—boundaries, balance, rest—but I treated them like tools to fuel my output, not safeguard my well-being. And like many, I underestimated what stress—especially chronic, compounding stress—can do to a body and soul over time. (Talk about in denial.)
Then it hit. Hard.
The Breakdown
I found myself spiraling, trapped in a fog I couldn’t outwork. My mind was fractured by decision fatigue, my spirit flatlined. Not to mention all the other ways life was life-ing in my personal affairs. I called my best friend in tears, needing literal minute-by-minute coaching just to function with simple tasks. I was deep in a freeze response, and something had to give.
So I stepped away.
From a role I genuinely loved. From a career I’d built with intention. From the identity I’d carried for over two decades, from a teenager to young adult. For the first time in my adult life, I wasn’t enrolled, employed, or on a board or committee. And the silence was deafening. Without the noise of accomplishment addiction, I was forced to face the question I had long ignored:
Who am I when I’m not producing?
What followed was months of recalibration. Of therapy, hiking, baking, and breaking down. Of finding my worth beyond my work. And slowly, surely, I came home to myself. The beautiful thing is knowing this journey inward is ongoing and deeply fulfilling. In many ways, I’m still learning to trust the process.
The Reset
I once read that recovery from severe burnout can take a full year—with professional support. At the time, I thought: That’s dramatic. Now? I co-sign, underline, and highlight it.
Healing takes time. And you can’t shortcut your way through it (RIP to the fast-track).
This is the heart of why I created MRL Strategies. To build systems that honor our humanity. To remind us that regenerative leadership is not a luxury, it’s our right to radically reclaim.
In honor of my one-year anniversary, here are some hard-earned truths I hope will serve you, too:
1. Real Community Will Cost You Convenience.
There’s been chatter online (at least in the corners of the internet that my algorithms are based on) about how showing up for people will sometimes, if not often, be inconvenient. It’s downright messy. You have to be willing to go out of your way to participate in community and mutual aid. And, when people go out of their way to do the same, embrace the opportunity to build a sense of belonging.
2. No One Will Stop You From Burning Out—Except You.
Even the most well-meaning support systems can’t override your internal programming. You need people who can truly call you in, but even more than that—you need to listen when they do. Early on in my transition a handful of special people showed up for me in ways that made all the difference; I’m glad I made the hard choice to accept their support.
3. Self-Care Can’t Be Cosmetic.
As helpful as a daily practice can be, a 5-minute meditation a day won’t keep chronic stress away. You need real margins. Boundaries that actually hold. And a deep understanding of the difference between preventative maintenance and proactive recovery. It can’t be surface level. It needs to reach the core of you to really take effect and replenish your energy. Keep in mind, it’s different for everybody.
4. Normalized Doesn’t Mean Nourishing.
Yes, take the PTO. And also remember: these benefits were designed with the organization’s sustainability in mind, not yours (sorry HR—you have yet to convince me otherwise with your slick work culture marketing). Advocate for more. More flexibility, more rest, more say. Your life deserves more than the bare minimum. Permission begins with you.
5. Build (or Rebuild) Cultures That Protect People.
If you're in a position to shift culture, do it. Redesign policies that acknowledge the real parts of our humanity rather than corporate hustle. Value people over performance. A birthday cupcake is a nice touch—and I’m all for the small details—but let’s be honest about how team dynamics and environment play a role in well-being. Make it personable, not performative. If the culture can't shift, it may be time to move on.
6. Allow Yourself Seasons.
You are not a machine. You are a living being with rhythms and cycles. Everything cannot be on full blast, year-round. Urgency is rarely as urgent as we make it. Most of our work is not life-or-death, but we act like it is—and it’s costing us dearly. Make room for ebb and flow within your workload. Plan for it. Protect it. That is the work, too. This includes your professional journey as a whole. As taboo as it may seem at first, there is a lot of benefit that can come from intentional, responsible career breaks to rediscover what makes you truly spark.
The Realignment
This past year didn’t just restore me. It redefined me in many ways.
I’m passionate about capacity building not because it’s trendy, but because I’ve lived the consequences of neglecting it. Capacity is more than funding or staffing—it’s about creating restorative systems, solutions, and cultures that give back as much as they take. It’s about rejecting extraction in favor of sustainability. It’s building strong movements—and sacred lives—that last.
I still find myself fighting the urge to enroll in one-too-many things… but this season has taught me I don’t have to crush all my goals at once—or in a rush. There’s time. For now, I’m grateful for the clients who have entrusted me on their development journey to co-create new levels of impact from these and many other hard-earned lessons.
If you’re on the verge, in the valley, or coming out the other side, know this: You are not broken. You are becoming. And you don’t have to prove your worth by burning out to be believed.
Rest is not retreat. It’s revolution.