Two months ago, I fell apart in my doctor's office and with her encouragement I agreed.
I made one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever had to make—
I stepped back.
I didn’t step back because I wanted to. I stepped back because I had to.
I had been running on empty for too long, pouring from a cup that had been dry for months. What I thought was just being “tired” or “overwhelmed” turned out to be something deeper—burnout. The kind that doesn’t just affect your work, but your heart, your mind, and your soul.
At first, rest didn’t feel like rest. It felt like guilt. Like failure. Like I was letting everyone down. My days felt strange without a long to-do list and the constant buzz of busyness. I didn’t know who I was without the hustle.
But slowly, something began to shift.
I started noticing the quiet things—the way the morning light poured through my window, the sound of my own breathing when I slowed down, the joy of doing something just because it made me smile. I began to realize that my worth was never meant to be measured by how much I accomplish in a day, or what people thought of me by but by the simple truth that I exist.
Some days are still hard. I’m not “fully recovered,” and I’ve stopped chasing the idea of going back to who I was before. Instead, I’m learning to build a gentler, kinder life—one where rest isn’t a reward I earn, but a rhythm I live by.
If you’re in that place of exhaustion, please hear me:
It’s okay to step away. It’s okay to say “not right now.” It’s okay to choose rest over running yourself into the ground.
You are not behind.
You are not weak.
You are simply human—and you are allowed to take the time you need to come back to yourself.
One day, you’ll feel the sun on your face again and realize that while burnout changed you, it also gave you a chance to rebuild into someone even stronger, softer, and more whole. 💛