Small business burnout: how to rebuild a life that fits

Burnout, Joy, and the Business of Rebuilding a Life That Fits

4/30/2025

A few years ago, I was parked in 2010 alien green Kia Soul, sitting in a ferry line, crying. I had picked up my daughter from school and she was curled up in the back seat with an anxiety-induced stomachache, and I was on my way to give a keynote in Seattle. I had to go, we needed new business so I could our bills and make payroll. She was miserable. It was an unwinnable situation.

And in that moment, I thought, this is the last time I’m going to do this.

That Kia was my breaking point on wheels.

The Reflection That Brought It All Back

Recently, I was invited to speak on a panel about resilience and business ownership at a Matchstick Labs event. As I thought about what I’d share, I found myself circling back to that day in the ferry line. It’s been years, but the weight of that moment still sits in my chest when I think about it. That experience was the culmination of a slow, creeping burnout—and the beginning of a hard but important reset.

The Tipping Point

What people don’t always talk about is how burnout can creep up on you, quietly, until one day it explodes.

I had reached a point where I was experiencing panic attacks, heart palpitations, and for the first time in my life, suicidal thoughts. I felt like I was failing on every front: I couldn’t keep up with sales in my business, I couldn’t be the parent my daughter needed, and I couldn’t even begin to think about what I needed. Everything felt like a tradeoff—and I was losing.

Eventually, I did something I had been resisting for years: I closed one of my businesses and took a full-time job. It was gutting. It felt like defeat.

But it also gave me something I hadn’t had in years: space. Mental space. Financial space. Emotional space to ask what I actually wanted from my life.

What Burnout Taught Me

That unraveling season taught me things I carry with me in every decision I make now.

First, I learned that you can't compartmentalize your life as a business owner. You are one person. One nervous system. One human trying to hold it all together. And when one part of your life is falling apart, it leaks into everything else.

Second, I realized that I wasn’t just working hard because I loved my job (though I did). I was also working to prove something—to myself, to others, to the world. I was using my business as a mirror, trying to find worth and value in the reflection. And that’s an exhausting way to live.

Third, I learned that there are two types of entrepreneurs: those with safety nets—partners with steady incomes, trust funds, severance packages—and those of us who are the net. I was the latter. I was carrying the financial weight of my family, managing employees, handling taxes, building the future while barely surviving the present. The pressure wasn’t just intense—it was unsustainable.

But the biggest shift came when I got clear on what I actually wanted. And it turned out to be surprisingly simple:

I wanted my daughter to feel truly cherished.
I wanted enough money to give me choices.
And I wanted to have fun again. Not “cram it in between Zoom calls” fun. Real fun. The kind that makes your shoulders drop and your brain stop spinning for a minute.

Rebuilding with Intention

Two years later, I’ve rebuilt something that finally fits.

I found the love of my life. That full-time job that gave me a soft landing eventually laid me off (thank you, universe), and I used that moment to start over. This time, I designed my business around the life I want—not the other way around.

I don’t have employees (although I miss their faces!). I work with clients I genuinely enjoy. I charge what I need to, so I don’t have to run myself ragged. I partner with organizations that feed me interesting work. And I’ve built in space—real space—to live.

Most importantly, I’m emotionally available to my daughter. I have enough left in the tank at the end of the day to be present when she walks through the door. To celebrate the little things. To help her feel like home isn’t just a place—it’s a relationship.

That’s not a small thing. That’s the whole thing.

Of course, burnout still tries to sneak in. It showed up again recently—quieter this time, but familiar. And instead of powering through, I noticed it. I adjusted. I changed my workload. I reminded myself what I’m building and why.

I told my therapist I was afraid I’d end up in the same place again. She said, “You know the signs now. You’re watching for them. You won’t let it happen again.” And she was right.

Facing burnout?

If you’re in a season of pushing, straining, forcing—it might be time to check in with yourself.

You don’t have to hit bottom in a ferry line to start making different choices. You don’t have to burn everything down like I did. But if you already have? You’re in good company. You can rebuild. And it can be better.

Start by asking:

Where is there joy?
What am I doing because it actually fills me up?
What am I doing because I feel like I have to?
What’s working? What’s not?

Joy isn’t the same as happiness. Happiness is fleeting—little sparks in your day. But joy? Joy is a thread. It weaves through the fabric of your life when you’re living in alignment.

So take the space. Ask the hard questions. Be honest with yourself.