In August of 2019, my Mother had a major surgery that required me to be gone from Seattle for almost a month. I was fully alone, residing in a college-town hotel with a bathtub next to the bed, and eating daily meals from the local Co Op salad bar waiting for her to heal. My time was spent working, grieving, doing lots of yoga, and listening to the whisper of my inner thoughts. They told me in their gentle way that I was officially burnt out. Ten years after my sudden retirement from my first career, I had been on a mission to prove I didn’t make a mistake. And, when I finally paused to see if I was okay? I wasn’t.

About a month later, I got pregnant with my son. Covid hit six months after that which had me working 12+ stressed hours a day. At this point, I was desperately looking forward to my three month reprieve after having him in June 2020. There was no pause — My son was born traumatically and had growth restriction, I suffered with debilitating postpartum rage and anxiety, painfully closed my beloved cafe I owned for 8 years that Summer during my leave, and then eventually that next year I got pregnant again (very planned) . It wasn’t until February 2022, when I had my daughter that I finally planned a true rest. The kind that you have boundaries for and that you have needed for years, because I obviously did.

I did a full life reset — I journaled, watched every single episode of “Sex and The City” in the dark while nursing my newborn, let the house get messy, slept at all hours, started a spiritual practice, found neural manifestation, and got nerdy about my values and authentic self. When I re-emerged after 4 months, I felt completely reborn. It took me a while to recalibrate to my work and friends from before this time. Observing was where I felt most comfortable, and I was quietly exploring my feminine energy.

If you know me, you know this is a radical shift.

In those four months, I didn’t fully crack the code to burnout, but I have been pulling the thread ever since and I can confidently say I am no longer suffering. The word that comes to mind is harmony with a very clear focus on where I am putting my attention.

This story is not to make you feel sorry for me — I am always retrospectively grateful to go through life situations of utter brokenness to be able to hold space for others before they get there. Nobody should have to experience burnout alone. I wish I didn’t.