Burnout + the Cost of Hustle Culture

*If you'd rather listen to the podcast, you can listen here.

Over the last several months, I’ve been quieter than usual. I stepped back from recording podcasts, from constantly feeling the pressure to show up, and I gave myself permission to just breathe. 

The truth is: I’ve been really burnt out.

I haven’t wanted to admit it because I love what I do — deeply. But for at least six months, I’ve been questioning if the work I pour my heart into is making the impact I want it to, and whether I’ve been showing up in the best way possible — both for my business and at home. To put it simply I haven’t felt like myself.

I'm sharing this as a business owner, and as a mom, because I think my story isn't unique, yet we don't talk about mental health, the stress of running a business or being a mom, enough. We share the reality that sometimes the lines between our personal and professional lives blur — and when we’re not okay in one, the other suffers.

For those who don’t know, I’ve been on a "health journey", which includes trying to lose weight, for what feels like my entire life. However, it's really been impacting me since my pregnancy with my son, which was nothing short of traumatic for me. I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes, then developed severe preeclampsia. 

In the final two months of my pregnancy, I knew something wasn’t right. I was gaining extreme amounts of weight (over 100lb), seeing stars, and feeling awful. I voiced my concerns repeatedly, but my symptoms were dismissed as “normal” pregnancy discomforts. At one point, a provider even implied I was overeating, which wasn’t the case.

Just after my baby shower, at 35 weeks, I ended up in the hospital. They discovered I had severe preeclampsia, and I needed to be induced. The induction process took days due to my blood pressure. It was exhausting and frightening.

That birth experience changed me — and it was the beginning of ongoing health struggles, including anxiety, and postpartum depression.

Soon after having my son, I was prescribed Wellbutrin. While I support the use of medication for depression and anxiety when it’s needed, I didn’t realize at the time that Wellbutrin wasn’t the right fit for me.

For the past 5 years years I had been living with intense anxiety and strange OCD-like symptoms — intrusive thoughts, irritability, and an emotional volatility that didn’t feel like me. I started to believe maybe motherhood had just permanently changed me.

It wasn’t until this past spring that I finally saw a psychiatrist. Within one session, she said, “You have ADHD. Wellbutrin is a stimulant — it’s making everything worse.”

We transitioned me off the medication, and almost overnight, every single OCD symptom disappeared. My anxiety decreased significantly, and for the first time in years, I felt like myself again.

That experience taught me the importance of seeing the right kind of specialist (not a general practitioner) and not settling when something feels off. I wish I had advocated for myself sooner because I feel like I was robbed of joy the first few years of my son's life. 

Although my mental health improved significantly, I had still been feeling very lethargic and would easily feel burnt out. I’d go through bursts of productivity followed by long crashes where I could barely function. Those crashes were getting longer.

I suspected perimenopause, but instead of another quick appointment with my GP, I saw a functional medicine doctor. She asked if I had recent lab work, which I had, and was told was normal. She recommended some additional lab work and discovered that years of chronic stress had left me with almost no cortisol production. My body was, quite literally, running on empty. Due to very little cortisol I was now in adrenal fatigue mode. 

We often think of too much cortisol as weight gain, but the exact same thing can happen when you're not producing any.  To help me stabilize and get back on track I began hormone therapy and I take adrenal support supplements. I'm also prioritizing and giving myself permission to do nothing.  To not always feel obligated to jump in and help out. 

I still can't believe this but within four weeks, I've already lost 6lb which is crazy because for the last year I've not only been taking a GLP-1 medication but I work out regularly (3 days a week) with a trainer, along with working out on my own.

Anyway, I felt inspired to share my story because I know I can't be alone in feeling like something isn't right to be repeatedly told you're fine.  Or if struggling with weight to be repeatedly told, it's easy: it's just calories in and calories out.  

Here are the biggest takeaways I hope you carry with you:

Be your own health advocate.

If you know something isn’t right, keep pushing. Standard labs don’t always tell the full story. Specialists or functional medicine doctors can uncover what general testing might miss.

Hustle culture isn’t worth your health.

I love my work, but I worked myself into a physical and mental breakdown. Working smarter, not harder, and prioritizing your well-being isn’t optional — it’s essential.

Delegate before you burn out.

Letting go of control is hard, but it’s the only way to sustain a growing business and still have a life. I started with tasks that freed me up to do revenue-generating work — like hiring help for laundry so I could be in the treatment room.

Disconnect completely.

This past summer, I spent three weeks in Korea and Japan. Fully stepping away from daily operations was exactly what I needed to reset my energy and creativity. I’m making it a yearly ritual.

Don't get me wrong, I don't have everything figured out, and I’m still on my healing journey. I’m still figuring out what balance really looks like. But I feel more myself than I have in years — and that gives me hope.

If you take anything from my story, let it be this: you don’t have to carry the weight of unrealistic expectations + constant pressure. There's some weight was never meant to be carried by you.