Burnout Is Not Failure
Recently, I had the privilege of sharing a panel with Dr. Jessi Gold, where we discussed our books on mental health and wellness. Jessi’s book, How Do You Feel?: One Doctor's Search for Humanity in Medicine, invites readers to reconnect with their emotional selves—a concept often neglected in caregiving professions. During our discussion, Jessi said something that deeply resonated with me:
"Burnout is an expectation to plan for instead of being seen as failure."
This perspective is both liberating and challenging. It reminds us that burnout is not a personal flaw or weakness, but rather a predictable outcome in systems where caregivers are expected to prioritize others at the expense of their own well-being.
In my work with first responders and healthcare professionals, I’ve observed a pattern: the tendency to ignore their own needs. This happens for many reasons:
Pride: A belief that they must always be strong and self-sufficient.
Time: The relentless pace of caregiving leaves little room for self-care.
Identity: Many caregivers struggle to see themselves as human beings rather than human doings, defining their worth through service and achievement.
Cultural Norms: The caregiving world often rewards overwork and self-sacrifice, perpetuating the idea that needing help is a sign of weakness.
This culture of pride and perfectionism can trap caregivers in a cycle where their humanity feels like an inconvenience. The irony is heartbreaking: those who dedicate their lives to caring for others often struggle to extend the same compassion to themselves.
When we hear the word “caregiver,” we often think of nurses, doctors, and first responders. But caregiving takes many forms, all of which require emotional and physical energy:
Therapists
Coaches
Spiritual Directors
Massage Therapists and Somatic Coaches
Support Groups
Caregiving extends beyond professional roles; it includes friends who listen, family members who step in, and even communities that rally to support someone in need. Each form of caregiving plays a vital role in the cycle of care, but all are susceptible to burnout if the givers don’t also receive.
Let’s challenge this narrative. Instead of seeing burnout as failure, what if we acknowledged it as a signal—a natural consequence of being human in a demanding role? By shifting our perspective, we can create space for caregivers to honor their humanity and seek the support they deserve.
Here are some steps caregivers can take to acknowledge their humanness and embrace help:
Recognize Your Needs Are Valid: You can’t pour from an empty cup. Acknowledging your limits doesn’t make you less capable—it makes you sustainable.
Practice Self-Compassion: Treat yourself with the same kindness you would offer a friend or client in need.
Ask for Help: Whether it’s a trusted colleague, a therapist, a coach, or a group like CrossFit or a 12-step program, letting others care for you isn’t weakness—it’s wisdom.
Set Boundaries: Learn to say no when necessary, and protect time for rest and recovery.
Redefine Success: Shift the focus from achievement to connection and presence. Remember, you’re caring for humans, not striving for perfection.
At its core, caregiving is cyclical. We all need someone to care for us, just as we care for others. When caregivers embrace their humanity, they create a ripple effect that benefits not only themselves but also those they serve.
Jessi’s words remind us that burnout isn’t the end of the road—it’s a wake-up call. By planning for it, addressing it, and reframing it, we can shift from survival to sustainability. As caregivers, it’s time to extend the same compassion inward that we so freely give outward. Because we are not failures—we are human.
