When Burnout Isn’t About Work
Eight years ago, my life was perfect.
I was throwing a joint birthday party for my daughters in our newly renovated Silicon Valley dream home (yes, that pic was my actual house). Our families were flying in from across the US to celebrate our girls turning 3 and 1.
My partner was at FAANG, and I had one foot in, and one foot out of tech — co-founding a startup, while pursuing training in executive coaching. Everything looked great on paper. I should’ve been ecstatic. We were power-coupling, I loved my kids, and life was going according to plan. But inside I felt completely lost, empty and overwhelmed.
I felt asleep at the wheel of my career and personal life. Inside, I was falling apart — burned out; anxious, overworking yet unmotivated to execute. I couldn’t sit still, feeling trapped despite having so much success; coming so far from where I was a decade earlier, barely being able to pay rent in NYC.
Pop culture, including the WHO’s definition, frames burnout as a career driven issue. But after experiencing four cycles of burnout myself — including one entirely unrelated to work, and having worked with hundreds of people in active burnout over several years, I know its roots run deeper. While work may be where it manifests, burnout is often emotionally driven. Here’s how:
When We’re Living a Lie — this may sound dramatic, but when our lives are pre-ordained by family and social expectations, we end up performing rather than living — sometimes even leading double lives. I was closeted and sexually repressed for years, and I was also deeply disconnected from who I was and what I actually wanted for myself. My inauthenticity rippled through everything — my relationship, career, the entire life path we’d chosen together. Financial pressure, the need to maintain appearances, and shame kept me trapped in this performance, even as it was breaking me apart.
If We’re Trying to be Perfect— When we’re driven to prove our worth, we overextend ourselves in a desperate bid for validation. My perfectionism manifested everywhere — throwing parties, showing up immaculately dressed to every social event. Low confidence fueled my overworking and obsessive attention to detail. Worse, I was pouring all this energy into work that wasn’t aligned with what I knew in my heart I wanted, or was good at. I was trying to excel at everything, only to feel like I was failing at it all — and missing my full potential in the process. It was an exhausting, unsustainable chase after an impossible standard.
When Our Values Changed — the kind of success I once chased — the huge house, the prestigious career — suddenly felt hollow. people would say, “Why can’t you just work at Google like everyone else here?”, I realized how much I’d changed. Even with multiple leadership offers landing in my lap, I felt zero excitement about returning to tech. My definition of success had fundamentally shifted. I wanted travel, fewer things, and more quality time for myself and those I loved.
We’re Carrying an Invisible Load: This is the endless emotional labor, caretaking, and life upheavals that no one sees (or at least recognizes). Despite therapy, I was drowning in compound stressors: uprooting from NYC, managing childcare/school for 2, planning endless meals, navigating new parenthood post having moving cross country, AND working while in a career pivot/existential crisis. It was death by a thousand cuts — each responsibility minor on its own, but crushing together.
Lack of Connection — moving to California stripped away my support system just when I needed it most. With two kids under two who couldnt talk to me, and a partner rightfully focused on his career pivot, I found myself isolated. Making new friends felt impossible — and while my kids’ friends’ parents were lovely, those relationships weren’t the same. I wanted my partner to fill every emotional void I had, plus there was the guilt and realization of needing more connection than he could provide. The isolation was breaking me. I felt alone.
My life changed when I acknowledged that burnout wasn’t about my career — rather it was about reclaiming my worth, identity, and having the courage to change course, even when that meant disappointing people in my life.
If you’re experiencing burnout, try to look beyond the superficial; your productivity, workload, or a new role. Don’t be afraid to ask the deeper questions, because sometimes the path to more joy, success, peace and meaning is about having the courage to reimagine our life entirely.