Flawless Plan, Epic Crash: The Burnout I Didn’t See

It was a warm Thursday morning, and I was lowkey hating life. Not the fact that I was alive, but because I wasn’t feeling alive.

As a single woman—in life and in work—sometimes (oftentimes) I feel like there’s no way little ole me can do all of it on my own. And of course I can’t, but that’s what God is for. And even though I know He’s there—carrying me, uplifting me, giving me strength—there are times when I don’t feel it yet.

This was that Thursday.

Staring at my freshly polished 3-month strategic plan—mapped out using Mimi deGrandpre’s sharp SheChief framework (equal parts corporate clarity and heart)—and my “Monday Magic” weekly schedule (thanks to the ever-clever and grounding Abbi Miller of WorkWomb), I was torn. On one hand, I felt a wave of relief. I had finally nailed down a clear path forward after weeks of pivoting. The day-by-day layout looked beautiful—like the kind of Pinterest board your future self would be proud of.

But on the other hand?

That same shiny plan felt like a taunt. A reminder that I now had everything laid out… and still not nearly enough time, help, energy, or capacity to do it all. The backend tech, the content calendar, the email marketing system automation rabbit holes I had to learn to jump through without face-planting? Too much. Too heavy. Freaking intimidating.

Honestly? I wasn’t just tired. I was done.

And if I’m being real with myself (and now, with you), I’d been at the end of my rope for a minute. That neatly organized plan just smacked me with the facts I’d been avoiding.

A few days passed before I finally called back one of my ride-or-dies who’d been trying to reach me. I hadn’t been ignoring her on purpose. My work schedule up until that point was… let’s just say freestyle. I love what I do—and there’s always so much of it—so stepping away never feels simple. 

But the second she picked up, I clocked the flatness in her usually sing-song “Hi hon.”

I knew that tone. I was that tone.

My girl was clearly in her own version of “that Thursday.”

I’d meant to open up about my spiral, but the moment I heard her voice, I shifted. She needed space to talk, and I needed to be quiet. So I listened. And what I heard was familiar. Sadness. Exhaustion. That particular kind of mental fatigue you can’t nap your way out of.

She shared, and I supported. Then I shared, and she supported.

We were both on the struggle bus, no question, but for different reasons. And while she didn’t put a label on what she was going through, I knew exactly what was going on with me.

When It’s a Whisper, Not a Scream

I didn’t want to work. I didn’t want to work out. I didn’t even want to make breakfast. I only kind of wanted my usual oat milk with honey decaf, but even that didn’t spark joy—and if you know me, you know that’s a red flag.

Yep—caught me slippin’. Burnout had officially entered the building, folks.

Now I can’t remember if it was the same day or the next, but somewhere in the haze, I scrolled past a LinkedIn post from Demetria Zinga—podcast mentor, creator of Soul Podcasting, voice like butter, and a total favorite-auntie vibe.

Her words were soft but certain. Wise. Timed like a divine appointment. And while I’m paraphrasing here, this is what my spirit heard:

“I see you, solopreneur. Burnout isn’t the end. It’s a pause. A pivot. A redirection.”

It hit me. Not just because I was running on fumes, but because I was also carrying the silent pressure to thrive through it anyway. Like, empty wasn’t a reason to stop. Just something to push through. 

I mean, the signs were all around me:

• Exhaustion, no matter how many hours I sleep? Check.
  
• Lack of motivation, even when the plan is solid? Check.
  
• Constant second-guessing and restarting? Check.
  
• A craving to disappear while also wanting to be seen? Double check.
  

I used to think burnout would look dramatic—like crying at my desk or rage-quitting something, both of which I’ve done. But it looked more like slowly shutting down. Answering texts with “lol” when I meant “please rescue me.” Avoiding the things I once felt excited to create.

So why am I telling you this?

Because maybe you’re also trying to follow a plan you prayed for, but it now feels heavier than it should.
Maybe your calendar looks clean, but your spirit feels cluttered.
Perhaps you’re like me, a high-functioning, Jesus-trusting, emotionally-aware, self-coaching kind of gal who still found herself whispering: I can’t do this today.

And so I didn’t.
I decided to officially stop. Like, really stop.
I gave myself the rest of the day off—from working, adulting, being “on,” or pretending I had it together.

No laptop.
No chores.
No phone (well… almost).

Jackie and Nirvana. Parks and Pop-ups.

A different but equally fantastic friend, whom I’d been texting earlier about something he was helping me with, offered to scoop me up for a coffee break. He’s a total sweetheart who had his own to-dos that day, but he sensed my need for air. We spent the afternoon downtown, living out our own little reset retreat.

First stop: Jackie’s Place for soul food that tasted like grace. 

Yes, I know it was supposed to be a coffee break, but I got too excited to pass it up. I’d been jonesing to eat there forever, and their new location just happened to be right next door to our original destination: Nirvana Soul, where we went after for that caffeine hug that makes life a little sweeter. We also checked out not one but two potential co-working offices—strictly for some wishful ‘someday’ fun, though (A girl is in no position to add more to her plate just yet. Duh).
We ended our day at a familiar lake, just sitting still. Breathing. No to-do list in sight. Then dinner at a packed Italian spot where the vibe was too loud to overthink anything.

The next day?
Full Day Off: Part 2.

This time with the original friend—the one who’d been my struggle bus bud.  She pulled up with lunch, her infamous homemade matchas, and a whole makeup goodie bag like it was a spa day pop-up. We had a picnic in the park, took a breezy afternoon stroll, and came back to do a quick lip beat just because.

And I kept the party going with an impromptu wash day. (That’s Black girl code for: I washed my hair. And yes, it’s a full-blown TLC production. We don’t call it ‘Wash Day’ for nothing.)

Your plan was smart, but your body is smarter

I didn’t plan to pause. I just hit a wall and had no choice. But now I wonder—what if we gave ourselves permission before the crash?

What if rest wasn’t our reward for hard work, but part of the work itself?

I mean, rest doesn’t always look like sleep, does it?!
Sometimes, it looks like soul food, lip gloss, and a slow afternoon with people who get it.

I know this story isn’t unique to me.
If you’ve ever built something from scratch, led something alone, or carried a vision nobody else could quite see yet, then you know what I’m talking about.

We don’t always talk about this part.
The this-doesn’t-make-sense part.
The “I’m doing what I love, but I’m also not okay” part.

So I’m sharing this now, not for sympathy, but for solidarity.

If you’ve been feeling the weight, the weariness, the burnout creeping in…
This is your reminder that you’re not broken. You’re just human.
And humans need rest, too. Even the strong ones.
Especially the strong ones.

Final Thoughts: Real talk—I wouldn’t be on my way out of this burnout season without the inspiration, tools, and vibes from some incredible women-owned businesses, including the five I mentioned in this article. From reviving my spirit to helping me rethink my strategy, each one showed up with exactly what I needed, exactly when I needed it.

And if your besties aren’t nearby and you’re looking for deeper support, check out my girl Julia Wyka. She’s the mastermind behind Active Inquiry Coaching, a Burnout Recovery Coach and Psychotherapist who turned her own three-year recovery journey into a proven, empowering program for others.

Go check them out. Show some love. Let’s all support women doing dope things. 💛