I used to think burnout was just part of being a responsible adult. You know, working, raising kids, keeping everything from falling apart, and pretending I was fine while running on caffeine and fumes. That was my normal.

Then one day, my body said, “No more.” I ended up in the hospital, not as the nurse this time, but as the patient. Let me tell you, nothing humbles you faster than trading your scrubs for a hospital gown and hearing the doctor say, “You need to slow down.”

Lying there staring at the ceiling tiles, I had this quiet moment of truth. I realized I had been living life like a to-do list—checking boxes, chasing deadlines, and forgetting to actually live. Somewhere along the way, I stopped giving myself the same care I gave everyone else.

When I got home, I made a few small shifts. Nothing dramatic, just honest ones. I swapped chaos for morning tea. I started journaling instead of scrolling. I learned to say “no” without explaining myself. I traded guilt for gratitude and perfection for peace. (Still working on that last one, though.)

It didn’t happen overnight. Growth never does. But I began to understand that peace doesn’t come from doing more; it comes from doing what actually matters.

That hospital stay wasn’t my breaking point—it was my wake-up call. The day I stopped surviving and started living.

Now, when people ask what changed my mindset, I tell them this: you can’t pour from an empty cup, and you sure can’t live a full life on autopilot.

So take a breath. Drink your coffee while it’s still hot. Let something go. Your peace is worth protecting, even if it means putting yourself back on your own to-do list.