For a long time in my career, I was a full-time member of the hustle culture. I never felt at ease unless I was busy. Constantly working, constantly moving, constantly proving. If a day wasn’t packed from start to finish, it felt wasted. I always believed I could (and should) be doing more.
I don’t blame toxic environments or bad managers for that. It’s just who I am. Someone who ties self-worth to output. In my mind, no progress meant failure. That mindset can be dangerous. It pushes you until burnout, and when you get there, you don’t even know why you were running in the first place.
The funny thing is, the word that mattered most in that whole sentence was “busy.” Busy is not the same as productive. I knew that logically, but my brain didn’t care. The short-circuit between reason and instinct was real, and I struggled to break it.
Over time, I’ve put a lot of work into changing that. Therapy, self-reflection, mentorship, observing how other people dealt with similar patterns. I didn’t want to erase who I am, my drive and ambition got me where I am today. But I needed to reshape how I channel them.
The shift came when I started reframing what being busy really means.
Being busy isn’t about cramming as many tasks as possible into your day. It’s about using your time and energy intentionally. It’s not the volume of your busyness that counts, it’s the quality.
I started to see things differently.
Not every task is a waste of time if it’s part of something bigger. Meetings, learning, quiet breaks, even rest. They all became steps in a structured path, not distractions from it. I began preparing better for discussions, building time for reflection, walking more, meditating. I started treating mental recovery and planning as essential, not optional.
Slowly, things shifted. It wasn’t an overnight switch, but an evolution. I became more forgiving with myself. I accepted that slow periods are okay, as long as I stay honest and don’t hide procrastination behind self-care. The chaos started to fade. The noise in my head quieted down.
And the most surprising part?
Slowing down made me sharper. With more space to think, I became more focused, more intentional, more proactive. I stopped reacting to what was happening around me and started steering things in the direction I wanted.
My mental health is still a work in progress. For years, the only thing that calmed me down was the same thing that burned me out, working more. Breaking that cycle has been tough, but I finally feel like I’m on the right path.
These days, I wake up with more energy and purpose. I’m still ambitious, but less frantic. Still driven, but more grounded. I’m surrounded by people and an environment that help me stay balanced, and that makes all the difference.
I’ll never be perfect. But that’s not the point anymore. The goal is to keep moving forward, the best way I can.