“If you don’t give your mind and body a break, you’ll break. Stop pushing yourself through pain and exhaustion and take care of your needs.” Lori Deschene

For forty-five minutes, I lay on my yoga mat in child’s pose, unable to move.

The exhaustion in my body felt like a thousand kilos, and the ache of failure pricked my eyes with tears.

Despite all my early morning runs, after-work bootcamps, and restricted meals, my body did not look like the bikini models I saw on Instagram.

Despite all my energy, efforts, and attention, my romantic relationship had fallen apart. No matter what I did or how hard I tried, he didn’t love me anymore, and I couldn’t understand what I had done wrong.

Despite my long working hours and high levels of stress, my boss didn’t recognize me, and I had to face the fact that I just wasn’t the talented designer I was trying so hard to be.

As I wallowed in my failure and the heartbreak of ‘not enough,’ I felt my body pleading with me.

“Why don’t you love me?” she asked. “Why do you push me so hard? Why is it NEVER enough?”

I was taken aback, as it was the first time I heard this voice, and it was full of the pain of rejection.

In that moment, I realized that everything I had been pushing for had been sending the message that I was ultimately unacceptable as I was. I needed to change or be different in order to be loved, valued, and successful.

The harder I tried to be perfect, to achieve, to prove my worth, the more exhausted, broken, and small I felt. By desperately trying to win other people’s approval, I was actually rejecting and abandoning myself.

This realization flooded me with grief. What had I done to myself???

Since this was clearly not working, I made a decision that changed my life.

“Ok,” I said to my body. “We’re going to do things differently.”

“From now on, I’m going to listen to you,” I promised. “We are going to do this TOGETHER.”

As soon as I made this commitment, I felt my body exhale with relief. She had been waiting for this moment my whole life.

In the months that followed, I left my job, I left my friendships, and I left the home my ex and I had built together.

I found refuge on my parents’ couch with severe burnout. After years of pushing, my body had finally collapsed.

My body struggled to walk to the end of the street. Being in a store was so overly stimulating that I felt like I was going to pass out. I couldn’t sleep for months. I had severe stomach pains and terrible migraines, and I couldn’t think straight. My heart was broken. I felt like my life was over.

It was physically excruciating. It was emotionally devastating. It was the biggest blessing.

My body was giving me the chance to start again.

The thing about burnout is that you can never go back to how you were living before. That way was clearly not working: the lifestyle, the thought patterns, the identity, the environments—it was not serving you.

Burnout burns it all to the ground and forces you to start over.

My identity used to be a “hardworking, people-pleasing perfectionist addicted to external validation.” If I hadn’t done the inner work to let go of that pattern and completely rewire my identity, I would have ended up straight back in burnout just a few years later (which is, sadly, something that happens to others).

Trust me, burnout is not something you want to repeat. I promised myself I would NEVER end up in that situation again.

During my healing journey, I focused on building a relationship with myself and my body. Not one where I commanded and pushed my body, but one where I regularly checked in with her, learned to listen to her, and respectfully honored her needs.

Every morning, I sat on my meditation cushion and took time to go within.

How was I speaking to myself? 

Where was I judging myself?

What did my body need from me that day?

My burnout took two years, almost three, to recover from fully. To say I felt impatient to feel “normal” again is an understatement.

Any time I felt frustration toward my body, I quickly shifted my attitude to compassion and gratitude, recognizing that my body had been through hell and was doing her best to recharge back to optimal health. My impatience was only adding more stress that, honestly, she didn’t need to deal with.

It was in this way that I learned to love myself, as I was, without all the labels of achievement. Burnout had stripped away everything I had worked so hard for—my career, my relationships, my physique, my home. I had to learn to truly love myself without the badge of productivity.

Through this loving commitment, my body guided me on how to live a life that was right for me.

I found I was a Human Design Projector and needed to value my energy above all else. I adjusted my schedule based on my energetic rhythms to include more rest and play in my day (which, admittedly, was not easy at first with my workaholic tendencies, but now I can’t imagine any other way).

Creating more space allowed me to find my soul’s purpose in teaching others how to connect to their bodies, love themselves unconditionally, and create successful lives in a sustainable way. I created a business based on what I love to do, began coaching women, and held retreats all over the world—without the extreme hustle I had been used to.

All the pressure to shrink down was gone. Instead of counting calories and pushing my body to the extreme, I focused on nutrition and movement that felt good. I didn’t care if my cellulite was showing or what people thought of the outfits I chose. The space that this opened up in my mind after years of obsession was the most freeing thing ever.

Learning to love my body changed my entire approach to life. It made me aware of my boundaries for the first time and helped me to create balanced relationships that felt truly fulfilling.

I went from overworking in a job I hated and over-giving in terrible relationships to running a purpose-led business where I get paid to be myself and surrounding myself with truly supportive people.

All because my body pulled the breaks on my old life and made me change direction. She showed me there was a more sustainable, more joyful, and more aligned way to make my dreams come true.

And for that, I am eternally grateful.