NOTE: This is the first in a series exploring burnout, boundaries, pain, and the slow, imperfect work of finding your way back — without pretending you’re “fixed.”
Burnout doesn’t arrive with fireworks and a warning label.
It creeps in quietly.
Through the “sure, I’ll just do its”.
The “it’s easier if I don’t make a fuss’ ”.
The “I’ll rest later”s.
I know this pattern intimately — because I’ve lived it, repeatedly.
My battles with burnout didn’t start because I wasn’t capable. They started because there was an unspoken expectation — from others and from myself — that I could be at the top of my game, no matter what the game was.
And I usually was.
Until I wasn’t.
Burnout isn’t a personal failure — It’s a boundary failure
For years, I believed burnout was something I needed to “fix” about myself.
So I did what many high-functioning women do:
I worked harder.
I adapted faster.
I over-extended — again and again.
Some of the pressure came from employers, colleagues, family, and friends.
Some of it came from inside me — that deeply ingrained belief that my worth was tied to how much I could carry.
I spent years bouncing from situation to situation, looking for peace. I spent more money than I care to admit on psychological support — only to keep hearing the same message delivered gently but firmly:
You’re burnt out. You need to step back before you fall down and can’t get up.
Burnout research supports this. It’s not a resilience failure — it’s the result of chronic stress, emotional labour, role overload, and lack of control (Maslach & Leiter, 2016).
In other words, burnout is what happens when boundaries are consistently missing or overridden.
The cost of being “fine” all the time
Burnout doesn’t stay neatly contained in your calendar.
It shows up in your body.
For me, that looked like years of illness and chronic pain conditions — an overactive, always-on central nervous system that never really felt safe enough to stand down. Pain without a clean injury story. Fatigue without a clear endpoint.
Layered on top of that was the exhausting effort of masking — trying to “fake it till I make it” while navigating ADHD in professional environments that reward linearity, consistency, and predictability above all else.
That kind of masking takes energy.
A lot of energy.
And when you combine it with long-term burnout, the cost compounds.
When the body stops negotiating
One of the most confronting lessons I’ve learned is this:
You can override your limits mentally — but your body will eventually stop negotiating.
These days, there are real structural issues in my body that intensify the pain experience. Pain is no longer hypothetical or psychological — it’s physical, persistent, and demanding.
I’ve just completed an intensive month-long pain management program through Brisbane's Wesley Hospital Pain Management Clinic, where I learned about the biopsychosocial model of pain.
The biggest revelation?
Pain isn’t just about tissues and nerves.
It’s shaped — dramatically — by psychological stress and social context.
And those neglected psycho-social spaces?
They are exactly where boundaries get trampled.
When you’re over-responsible.
When you’re people-pleasing.
When you’re absorbing expectations that aren’t yours to carry.
The dial turns up — on stress, on pain, on exhaustion.
When you’re constantly accommodating, absorbing, pushing through, and prioritising expectations over capacity, the nervous system stays in threat mode. Neuroscience shows this prolonged stress response amplifies both emotional distress and physical pain (McEwen, 2007; van der Kolk, 2014).
Your body doesn’t ignore missing boundaries.
It records them.
[IMAGE ABOVE: Me on one of many days when my body stops negotiating with me]
I’m still in burnout — and that matters
Here’s the part I want to say clearly:
I am not “on the other side” of burnout.
I am still deeply in it — learning, adjusting, listening, recalibrating.
That reality has been a major driver behind starting Caffeinate to Motivate — not as a hustle project or a productivity flex, but as a space built around honesty, flexibility, and working with your capacity, not against it.
I need flexibility.
I need to work when my body allows it.
I need space to do the things that are genuinely good for my mind and nervous system — not just the things that look productive on paper.
I’m learning to listen to my body — something I ignored for years.
I don’t always get it right.
Sometimes I overdo it. Sometimes I push too far. Sometimes I pay for it later.
But I am trying.
And one of the biggest lessons burnout keeps teaching me is this:
Perfection is not required for healing.
Learning to be okay with imperfection — with inconsistency, rest, limits, and adjustment — might be the most important boundary of all.
Why women burn out faster (and stay longer)
Women experience burnout at disproportionately higher rates, particularly in caregiving, leadership, and emotionally demanding roles (WHO, 2019).
We’re socialised to:
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be adaptable at all costs
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prioritise others’ comfort over our own capacity
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absorb emotional labour quietly
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minimise pain until it becomes impossible to ignore.
Brené Brown describes boundaries as “the distance at which I can love you and me simultaneously” (Brown, 2010). Yet many women are taught that boundaries are selfish, dramatic, or unkind.
So we keep going.
Until our bodies decide for us.
[IMAGE ABOVE: Me... still learning.]
Boundaries are a practice, not a personality trait
Boundaries aren’t about saying no to everything.
They’re about honest self-checking:
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What do I actually have capacity for today?
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What happens if I don’t push?
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What am I allowed to change?
For me, the hardest boundaries are internal — letting go of the belief that my value is tied to endurance, output, or how well I can perform under strain.
Burnout doesn’t demand perfection.
It demands honesty.
Burnout is the signal. Boundaries are the work
Burnout is not a moral failing.
It’s a message.
It says:
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something needs to slow down
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something needs to be protected
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something needs to change — even if that change is messy and non-linear.
I’m still finding my way back.
Not quickly. Not cleanly. Not perfectly.
But with more awareness.
More compassion.
And stronger, kinder boundaries than I’ve ever allowed myself before.
[IMAGE ABOVE: Me, soaking up the sun and enjoying some serenity.]
A final sip of truth
I don’t have a tidy recovery story.
I’m still in burnout.
Still learning.
Still recalibrating.
Still getting it wrong some days — and learning to be okay with that.
This series isn’t about fixing burnout or mastering boundaries overnight.
It’s about telling the truth while you’re still in it.
In the posts that follow, I’ll explore:
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what boundaries look like when you’re already exhausted
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how pain, stress, and nervous systems intertwine
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why “bouncing back” is a myth
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and how to build a life that can actually hold you — imperfectly, flexibly, humanly.
If you’re here because you’re tired, hurting, overwhelmed, or quietly wondering how long you can keep pushing — you’re not behind.
You’re exactly where this conversation begins.
References & citations
- Maslach, C., & Leiter, M. P. (2016). Burnout. Wiley International Encyclopedia of Management.
- World Health Organization. (2019). Burn-out an “occupational phenomenon”.
- Brown, B. (2010). The Gifts of Imperfection. Hazelden.
- McEwen, B. S. (2007). Physiology and neurobiology of stress and adaptation. Physiological Reviews.
- van der Kolk, B. (2014). The Body Keeps the Score. Penguin Books.
