What Burnout Taught Me About Boundaries and Belonging
There was a moment I’ll never forget.
I was sitting in my car after the morning school run, staring blankly at my phone as the notifications rolled in: WhatsApp messages, email pings, social media notifications. Things to be sorted and dealt with.
I caught sight of myself in the rear-view mirror, and the reflection stopped me cold.
Burnout in full force…
I looked haggard and hollow.
Dark circles under my eyes, skin puffy and unhappy, like I hadn’t slept in weeks. I could sleep for 10 hours but that didn’t make any difference, at all.
My whole body felt like it had been hit by a truck. That deep, bone-heavy kind of exhaustion that clings to you like a wet cloak.
I did something strange after seeing my reflection. I took a picture.
Not to post. Not to share. But to remember. I needed to remember.
I needed to remember this moment, so I could no longer pretend.
I was burnt out, and barely brave enough to admit it.
The Business That Looked “Successful”
From the outside, everything looked fine. Well, better than fine, even.
I had a full roster of retainer clients. £3k months. I was booked-out, respected, dependable, “a safe pair of hands,” as clients liked to say.
But on the inside?
I was unravelling like a ball of wool. Worn out, wired and barely holding it together. I was jumped from one to-do list to another, as the days, weeks and months rolled together into one blob of endless grafting.
In hindsight, I now know that burnout doesn’t always arrive with a dramatic collapse, slumped in a heap on the floor. It creeps in quietly, stealthily, disguised as productivity. It hides behind full calendars and glowing testimonials. It wears the mask of “success.” whereas behind that disguise what is really is suffering silently in a business that no longer fits.
The Hidden Cost of People-Pleasing
I didn’t burn out because I was lazy or that I had poor time management.
I burnt out because I couldn’t stop trying to be everything to everyone. I was a people-pleaser with an overdelivering complex, coupled with perfectism and the drive to make everything as brilliant as possible.
A combination that is both fabulous and fearful in equal measure.
I over-delivered. I said yes when I meant no. I let client expectations creep. I was so flexible that I would work weekends, evenings, early mornings, never stopping, convincing myself that “this is what good business owners do.”
Somewhere along the way, I’d confused being of service with self-sacrifice.
And if I’m really honest? I was scared.
Scared that if I said no, I’d stop being needed. That I’d stop being wanted. That the belonging I’d built, the reputation, the reliability, the “she’s got it all together” image, would vanish in a puff of smoke.
I liked the praise. I liked the admiration. I liked the kudos of a job well done, but in that co-concoction, I was clinging to a life-raft version of success, that was slowly sucking me under.
What I didn’t realise then is that people-pleasing often isn’t about being kind but it’s about fearing disconnection, and that success without boundaries is just burnout with better branding.
The Crash (and the Clarity That Came After)
Eventually, the tell-tales signs of burnout got louder. They started shouting.
I started resenting the work I once loved. My creativity disappeared over a cliff. I avoided anything that required real thought or an ounce of brainpower. Most days I was just ticking things off the to-do list, and trying to get things done as quick as possible.
Then came the final straw, the classic one that broke the camel (and it’s back).
I had just completed a huge project for a client that included brand strategy, design, copy, and website build, the full package. I was about to send the invoice when the client decided to change the entire brand name.
Everything needed redoing.
And I did it. Without a murmur. No questions asked.
But something inside me cracked.
There wasn’t a dramatic meltdown. No big public declaration. Just a quiet, firm voice that whispered: “I can’t keep doing this. And I don’t want to.”
It was the hardest moment, but the one I needed to make the change(s) I so desperately needed.
I started to take care of myself. Instead of doing the school run and powering through my to-do list, I took time to have breakfast, often al freso.
I took my questions out on a walk, often finding new and interesting places in the process!
What I Changed (and How I Rebuilt)
I didn’t burn it all down, right there and then. I didn’t quit overnight (although part of me wanted to like a Hollywood movie).
What I did was start small. I made space. Space to feel, to reflect, and ask the questions I hadn’t bothered asking myself at all:
“What do I actually want my business to feel like? What am I building this for? Who am I when I’m not trying to be useful?”
And from that space, a plan slowly began to take shape.
I let go of all my retainer clients, one by one.
I waved goodbye to their to-do lists and said hello to mine.
I said yes to the big business dreams I’d been secretly harbouring for YEARs.
I rebuilt my business around what I wanted, not just what I was good at. I said ta-tar to services that I could deliver, well, but didn’t like to do. A prime example is Social Media Management. Building Websites. Organising events.
This choosing to rebuild on my terms was how my Business Artisan approach was born, bringing together my love of branding with a slower approach to business, one rooted in clarity, values, and being who you are.
Belonging Doesn’t Require Burnout
Looking back, I learnt that true belonging, that feeling of praise, admiration, and a job well done, is an inside job. It doesn’t come from being useful. It doesn’t come from over-delivering, over-stretching, or saying yes to keep the peace.
It comes from knowing that you a creating and crafting something that’s true to what you believe and want to do.
Belonging comes from being grounded in who you are, what you need, and what you’re no longer willing to sacrifice.
Especially in business.
So, if you’re reading this and thinking ooo, “that hits home”, I’d love to share with you that you don’t need to hit rock bottom to change. You don’t need to justify your exhaustion or need permission to want a business that feels better.
If you’re feeling misaligned, disconnected, or just plain tired, that’s more than enough reason to pause.
Not forever. But long enough to come home to yourself, to what feels right for you.
Because burnout isn’t the end of your business.
Sometimes, it’s the beginning of something far better.
Onwards and Upwards
- Becky :)
