You've recovered from burnout. Now what?

There's a lot written about burnout: how to spot it, what causes it and how to recover from it.

There's another part though that we don't talk about as much and that we really should do: what happens when you're better?

At some point, you start feeling like yourself again. You have more energy, you want to work, you start getting excited about things and your confidence comes back.

Brilliant.

Then you realise that you can't (and likely don't want to) go back to doing everything exactly as you did before.

For me, I knew that wasn't an option otherwise I'd risk burning out again. So, I knew that the changes I'd made to recover from burnout had to embed as long term habits and rituals - not short term fixes.

I didn't want burnout to make me less ambitious

I think this is something we get wrong when we talk about burnout. The answer can't simply be to do less, care less and stop pushing yourself.

I don't want to stop pushing myself. I like being ambitious, working and achieving things. I like having fresh ideas and then trying to make them happen.

I didn't want to lose any of that.

Some of the things that contributed to my burnout are things I like about myself

This was a slightly uncomfortable realisation.

I care. I work hard. I'm reliable, I like helping people and, if I say I'm going to do something, I do it.

I don't want to change those things but every strength can become a problem when there's no off switch.

Caring can become taking everything personally. Being reliable can become never saying no. Helping people can become solving everyone's problems. Working hard can become never knowing when you've done enough.

That's where I've had to make changes, and I'm still making them.

I'm definitely not a boundary guru

I've written and spoken quite a lot about boundaries since burning out. That doesn't mean I'm brilliant at them.

I still overcommit sometimes. I still find myself saying yes when my immediate internal response was absolutely not. I still occasionally have to look at my diary and wonder what possessed me.

The difference is that I notice it now. I know what happens when I continually ignore what I need, and I'm much less willing to do that now that I've experienced where the alternative can lead.

My ambition hasn't disappeared but it has changed

Since burning out, I've changed the way I work. I've built my own business, taken more control over the work I do and the people I do it with, and said yes to things that scare me and no to things that don't feel right.

I'm now building Braver Spaces, alongside Kathryn and Della too.

None of that feels like smaller ambition. If anything, it's bigger but I'm trying to build it differently.

I don't want a successful business and a life I'm too exhausted to enjoy. I don't want to spend years working towards some imaginary point when I'll finally have more time. I don't want “I'm really busy” to be my permanent answer to “how are you?”

I'm 51. I'm ambitious, and I've got loads I still want to do. I just don't want to knacker myself out doing it.

Perhaps that's what sustainable ambition actually means: not wanting less, but refusing to lose yourself while you're going after more.