The Overachievement Trap: Why I Paused My Career to Reclaim My Life
After years in leadership roles, I finally asked: Is success still serving me? Here’s what happened when I stopped performing and started listening.
Two months ago, I was made redundant. It wasn’t a shock—I’d seen the structural changes unfolding and knew my role might be next. But knowing doesn’t mean you’re fully prepared for the emotional ripples that follow.
For years, I knew how to win in the corporate world. I led large teams, grew multimillion-dollar businesses, forged partnerships across continents, and shaped strategies that delivered impact. There was a version of me that could move through the world with confidence, backed by credentials, titles, and tangible outcomes.
And yet, when it all paused—I found myself sitting in a silence I hadn’t made time for in years.
The first question that came wasn’t “What’s the next role?” It was:
What does success mean to me now?
Rewriting the Map
When I stepped out of the day-to-day, I gave myself permission to not rush. I didn’t jump into updating my resume or activating my network. Instead, I slowed down to listen. I began journaling. I practiced rituals I’d long postponed. I sat with discomfort, grief, and curiosity.
I even recorded a video, just for myself at the time, sharing these early reflections. It was raw, vulnerable, and deeply honest. It took me a month to find the courage to share it publicly—but when I did, it became my most engaged post. Here it is:
That moment—sharing something so personal and being met with resonance—was a turning point. It reminded me that many of us are asking the same questions.
That’s how The Graceful Edge was born—a space and project that nourishes a different side of me. One that’s deeply committed to helping people—especially women—build lives of health, joy, and soulful alignment. A part of me that knows true longevity isn’t just about biohacking or anti-aging skincare routine, but about coming back to who we are, underneath the performance.
But I want to be fully transparent here.
Not Running Away, Just Choosing Differently
Over the past two months, career opportunities have continued to come my way—some of them incredibly compelling. And instead of saying “yes” out of habit, I evaluated each one across a new set of parameters:
Does the leadership walk their talk?
Do the values of this organization align with mine?
Is the strategy one I believe in?
How do they treat their people, their customers, their partners?
Will this role stretch me in ways that also nourish me?
This was new for me—not the analysis itself, but the criteria. My evaluation matrix used to be heavily weighted toward opportunity, scale, influence. Now, alignment and authenticity carry more weight.
And while I thought I might take a long pause, the truth is I may return to the corporate world soon—perhaps sooner than expected. But this time, I’ll be walking in with a different awareness. One I fought hard to earn.
Why It’s So Easy to Get Trapped Again
What I’ve come to see is that overachievement isn’t just a pattern—it’s a seduction. And it’s culturally celebrated. But here’s what many don’t realize:
Overachievement is often a trauma response dressed in designer ambition.
Neuroscience backs this up. Chronic overwork reduces activity in the prefrontal cortex—affecting decision-making, memory, and emotional regulation. Stress, sustained over time, literally reshapes the brain.
Psychologist Dr. Gordon Parker has shown that perfectionists—especially high performers—are particularly susceptible to burnout. What looks like high-functioning output on the outside is often inner depletion.
From a leadership perspective, some argue that burnout is a systems problem—and while I agree to an extent, I also know that no system can save us if we’re unwilling to shift internally.
Tools I’m Using to Stay Aligned
Even as I weigh my next steps, I can feel the familiar pull of excellence: the desire to perform, to prove, to achieve.
And I’m not vilifying those instincts—they’ve brought me far. But I know now that left unchecked, they can lead me back into the very cage I just stepped out of.
Here are a few tools and practices that are helping:
Weekly Alignment Check-ins: I ask myself, “Am I moving from fear or from intention?”
Non-Negotiable Rituals: Daily tea ceremony. Gratitude journaling. Skincare rituals. Meditation. These aren’t luxuries. They are anchors.
Decision Filters: I review every new opportunity through my values: vitality, integrity, creativity, connection, elegance.
Accountability Circle: Honest conversations with people who truly see me.
Creative Expression: Writing this newsletter, creating The Graceful Edge—these aren’t side projects. They are soul projects.
These are not just “tools.” They’re safeguards. They’re the rails that keep me on my path.
From Inner Shift to Collective Evolution
This journey isn’t unique to me. Many of us are waking up to the realization that success, as it’s been sold to us, often leaves something essential behind.
Ken Wilber’s Integral Theory calls this a shift in consciousness—a movement from achievement to integration. Chögyam Trungpa warned about “spiritual materialism,” reminding us that even self-discovery can become another ego project if we’re not careful.
On the flip side, some thinkers argue we’re romanticizing burnout too much—that perhaps what we’re calling a “quiet crisis” is simply a need for better boundaries and healthier ambition.
It’s not about abandoning ambition. It’s about refining it. Making it true. Making it whole.
Where I Am Now
I don’t have a perfect ending for this piece—because I’m still in the process. But I do know this:
I’m no longer interested in roles that cost me my presence. I want success to feel like a life fully lived—not just a LinkedIn headline.
If I return to corporate leadership, it will be with a new compass. The Graceful Edge will remain not just a platform—but a promise, my commitment to stay true to the parts of me I worked so hard to reclaim.
And if you find yourself questioning your own definition of success, know this:
You’re not lost. You’re just listening.
And maybe, that’s where the real leadership begins.