A Letter About Patience (Especially If You’re Healing From Burnout)

Dear midlife woman,

I want to talk about patience.

Not the polished, inspirational version.
Not the “just be patient” advice that usually lands somewhere between frustrating and impossible.

I mean the kind of patience that becomes necessary when burnout has touched your life.

Because one thing I see again and again — in my therapy room, in the Midlife Reclaimed community, and if I’m honest… in myself too — is how hard we are on ourselves when healing doesn’t happen quickly.

I hear it all the time:

• Why am I not better by now?

• Why can’t I do what I used to do?

• Everyone else seems to cope — what’s wrong with me?

  And underneath those questions is often something quieter but heavier:

• the sense that we are the problem.

• That we need fixing.

• That we should be further along.

I don’t think this comes out of nowhere.

We were shaped in a world that values speed, productivity, outcomes, and performance. Many of us were praised for being capable, reliable, high-achieving women. We learned to push through. To override. To keep going.

That worked… until it didn’t.

Burnout has a way of interrupting that story.

And midlife — with all its hormonal, emotional, relational and identity shifts — often amplifies the interruption.

Suddenly, the pace that once felt normal doesn’t fit anymore.
The energy isn’t the same.
The priorities shift.
The tolerance for self-abandonment quietly disappears.

But the old voice?
The productivity voice?
That one often sticks around.

It says:

You should be over this by now.
You’re falling behind.
You used to cope better.

I want to say something gently here.

Patience isn’t a personality trait you either have or don’t have.
And it’s certainly not a moral virtue you’re failing at.

It’s a capacity.
A skill.
A nervous system practice.

And after burnout — particularly in midlife — that skill often needs rebuilding.

Because burnout isn’t just exhaustion.
It’s often the result of years (sometimes decades) of overriding your own limits. Ignoring signals. Carrying too much. Being “the strong one.” Being “the capable one.” Being “the one who keeps it all together.”

Recovery rarely runs on the timeline we wish it would.

Not because you’re failing.
But because you’re human.

Something shifted for me after burnout.

Pre-burnout me believed pushing harder was always the answer.
Post-burnout me knows that pace matters.

I still feel urgency sometimes.
I still feel the pull to fix, achieve, prove, catch up.

But I don’t let that voice run the show the way I used to.

And when I don’t rush myself quite so much, something surprising happens:

I heal better.
I think more clearly.
I show up more fully.
And honestly… I like myself more.

If you’re in this season right now, I want you to know:

You’re allowed to move at a human pace.
You’re allowed to not have it figured out.
You’re allowed to need more rest than you used to.
You’re allowed to change your mind about what matters.

None of this makes you weak.
Or behind.
Or broken.

It makes you a woman who is paying attention.

And that, in my experience, is where real healing begins.

So maybe the invitation isn’t:

“How do I become more patient?”

Maybe it’s:

“What would it be like to stop rushing myself today?”

Just for today.
Just as an experiment.
Just as an act of care…

A Gentle Pause (If You’d Like One)

Before you move on —
before the next task, the next responsibility, the next pull on your energy —
maybe take a small pause with me.

Notice where impatience is showing up in your body right now.
You might feel it as tightness, restlessness, urgency, or something harder to name.

Just notice.
No fixing.

And if it feels okay, gently soften around it.

Take a slow breath in through the nose…
and exhale through your mouth.

Again — breathing in with the intention of softening the urgency.
Breathing out, allowing a little more space.

Stay with this for as long as you need.

And when you’re ready, you might quietly ask yourself:

What matters most from here?

Not what’s most urgent.
Not what others expect.
Not what the old productivity voice is pushing for.

Just what feels meaningful now.

And if there’s a small step toward that —
one gentle step —
you’re allowed to take it at your own pace.

From my midlife to yours. Take gentle care of you 🌻
Shannon