The joy (and cost) of being a workaholic
For years, I thought of myself as a happy workaholic. And honestly, I was. I loved what I did — the buzz of a packed schedule, the thrill of working with brilliant people, the satisfaction of solving complex problems. Work didn’t feel like a burden. It felt like my happy place.
That’s the tricky thing about certain habits — even the ones that look healthy. When something brings you joy and purpose, it’s hard to recognise when it starts taking up too much space.
Work as joy, until it isn’t
My diagnosis changed things. Suddenly, the pace I’d been keeping — the way I’d been living — didn’t feel sustainable. It was like I’d zoomed out and finally saw the full picture. I wasn’t neglecting myself out of carelessness. I’d just been so wrapped up in the joy and momentum of work that I hadn’t left space for anything else.
Work gave me purpose. But slowly, it had filled every available corner of my life.
The guilt we don’t talk about
Here’s the truly absurd part: I’ve always encouraged my team to prioritise their wellbeing. Need time for a check-up? Absolutely. Take the time you need.
But when it came to my own appointments? I’d quietly shift them around meetings and deadlines. I treated scans and specialist visits like disruptions to the “real” work. And if I did take the time, I felt this strange guilt — like I was letting someone down. As if caring for myself was somehow an inconvenience.
It’s a bizarre kind of double standard. Fiercely protective of others, but dismissive of myself. And I know I’m not the only one.
Workaholism isn’t shameful — but it is a clue
I’ve come to realise that being a workaholic isn’t something to be proud of — or ashamed of. It’s simply a signpost. A clue to where I’ve found meaning, stimulation, maybe even escape. The problem wasn’t that I loved my job. The problem was that I didn’t leave space for anything else.
That realisation didn’t arrive with fanfare. It came quietly, with the slow understanding that I needed more than just work to sustain me.
Making space for something else
I’m learning to carve out time — gently and imperfectly — for more than just work. One of the ways I’m doing this is through my 30-book challenge. It’s more than a reading goal. It’s a way to rebuild a part of myself that isn’t tied to being productive — just present. Just me.
In many ways, it’s helping me create a parallel identity — a version of myself who’s not defined by deadlines, results, or back-to-back meetings, but by curiosity, creativity, and rest. And when the old thoughts creep in — the ones that ask “Was I useful today? Did I earn my place?” — I try to meet them with gentler questions:
I think of it as checking my MAP — a way to navigate out of those old habits, and find my way back to what matters:
M — Made a difference:
Did I make a difference today, even in a way no one else could see?A — Allowed space:
Did I give my mind even a few moments to breathe, without a goal or deadline?P — Provided ease:
Did I help make something easier or lighter — for someone else, or for myself?
Some days the answer is yes. Other days, it’s murky. But that’s okay too. The point isn’t perfection — it’s practice. A slow, quiet shift from only being valuable when I’m working, to knowing I have value even when I’m not - that is tough!
Need a pocket-sized reminder?
Download your MAP guide — a business card-sized check-in to help you gently shift out of work-mode and reconnect with what really matters. Keep it on your desk, in your bag, or tucked into a book as a quiet cue that you’re more than just your productivity.
You don’t have to choose - it’s And, not Or
This isn’t a story about burnout. It’s not a rejection of ambition or a manifesto against hustle culture. It’s just a shift — a reframing. You can love what you do and still need a break. You can take pride in your work and make room for yourself.
If any of this feels familiar, take this as your permission slip to pause — even just for a few minutes. Make a cup of tea. Breathe. Step away from the to-do list.
You’re allowed to rest. You’re allowed to be more than your productivity.
“Rest is not the absence of work. It is work of a different kind.”
Want more quiet reminders like this?
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