By HTE Founder, Erin Hughes
I’ve recently realised something big: living a fast-paced, always-on life is actually easier for me than slowing down. I know… wild. But once I sat with it, it made so much sense. Honestly, the writing’s been on the wall for a while, I just didn’t want to read it.
The truth is, this way of living has an expiry date. Burnout is inevitable. I’ve felt overwhelmed, under pressure, and constantly chasing a to-do list that never ends. And sure, feeling busy is normal, but when the overwhelm starts to take over, when it gets harder and harder to keep up, that’s when you know something has to change.
And the first step? Acknowledging that it’s a problem. Knowing things need to shift.
Because running on empty, with a racing mind and a full bucket, isn’t sustainable. There’s no quick fix. It takes time, effort and a whole lot of self-compassion. Rushing through life, just ticking boxes… that’s not really living, is it?
Changing your pace after years of running at full speed is hard. It’s uncomfortable. For me, that first step was seeing a psychologist – someone I could talk things through with and get the support I so clearly needed. And in just my second session, it hit me like a tonne of bricks: I’ve been living like this for nearly twelve years.
Back in October 2013, my beautiful mother-in-law passed away from a stroke. It was heartbreaking. From that moment on, I threw myself into looking after everyone else, my husband, father-in-law, and brothers-in-law, because it felt like the one thing I could do to honour her and everything she gave to me.
The following year, I had my first child. Then in 2016, my second. 2018, my third. And in 2022, my fourth. During those years, I also launched two businesses (which have now wrapped), navigated the chaos of COVID, and supported a dear friend of over 25 years through addiction and mental health battles.
And somewhere in all of that? I forgot to make space for me. I didn’t allow time to pause, to breathe, to reset. My bucket stayed full, and my energy drained lower and lower.
Here’s the thing – helping others has always filled my cup. But I didn’t realise just how much it was taking from me at the same time. The burnout crept in quietly… and then all at once. I was ticking off tasks and powering through days, but the joy was gone. I didn’t want to live life for the tick of a to-do list anymore. I wanted to slow down. To feel grateful. To actually enjoy my life, not just do it.
So with support, I’ve started to make a change. Here’s what I’m slowly weaving into my world:
- Regular sessions with a psychologist – having someone to talk to makes a massive difference.
- Walking without my phone – no podcast, no calls, just me and the fresh air.
- Guided meditation – a way to quiet the chaos in my mind.
- Breathwork – reconnecting with my body and calming my nervous system.
- Writing a ‘joy list’ – things that genuinely help me relax… and actually doing them.
- Reading with a cup of tea before bed – to switch off from the world and wind down.
- Setting boundaries – saying no more, overcommitting less.
Remembering I don’t have to be everything to everyone.I’m so committed to slowing down, not just for my own health and happiness, but for my family’s too. We live in a world where we’re constantly contactable. It’s so hard to truly switch off.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I do thrive under pressure, I always have. But this… this is different. The burnout showed up in ways I didn’t expect: I stopped enjoying the things I used to love. Everything became a task to tick off, not something to savour. That’s how I knew this was something deeper, and something had to give.
Having more space now, more time to pause and reflect, has been challenging. Slowing down actually feels harder for me than being busy ever did. But as my psychologist said, if you injure your leg, you can’t expect to walk normally straight away. You have to rebuild your strength. This shift is the same, it takes time, patience and a whole lot of unlearning.
So if you’re reading this and thinking “this is me”… please know you’re not alone. Keep going. Keep showing up for yourself, even if it feels uncomfortable.
Because yes, I love the adventure, the chaos, the Here, There, Everywhere way of life. But more than anything, I want to be present when I’m here. Mindfully, happily, truly here.
