When Burnout and Vacations Collide

After years of giving until I had nothing left, I realized I’m burned out. I love teaching and our community — I’m making small changes so I can show up healthier and keep HealthGirl a safe, sustainable place for all of us.

This past weekend, I went to a cottage to rest — and, sitting on the couch for two days while the sun and lake waited outside, it hit me: I’m burned out.

For most of my life, I’ve been a people-pleaser. I was taught to put others first, to swallow discomfort so nobody else had to feel awkward, to keep giving even when I was empty. Over the last few years, the constant barrage of hard news, worry and pressure added to that pattern. I kept giving and pushing, and finally, it caught up with me.

I love what I do. I love teaching and I love our community. That has never changed. What needs to change is the pace I’ve been keeping. For seven years, I’ve pushed through long weeks, late nights, and a constant second-guessing of every boundary. That has left me tired — physically, emotionally, and creatively.

I’m working to do better. That means practical, sustainable steps so I can keep teaching for the long haul and keep this studio a safe, loving place to practice, move, and grow.

Here are a few things I want you to know right now:

• Classes continue. There will be only minor schedule tweaks — and I will give lots of notice before any change.

• I’m setting a firm boundary: I will not be answering emails or DMs after 9:00 PM. If you message me, then I’ll get back to you the next day.

• Over the next few months, I’ll roll out other small changes to protect my health and the studio’s sustainability. I’ll share each change in advance and welcome your feedback.

Why this matters: When I slow down and protect my energy, I can teach better classes, support our contract teachers, and create a kinder, more reliable schedule for everyone. That benefits you — because a rested teacher shows up clearer, safer, and more present. That’s the studio I want to run for the next five, ten, or even twenty years.

I’m still figuring out the exact shape of these changes — and I’m nervous about upsetting people or losing students. I care deeply about our ability to pay teachers, keep the space warm, and continue offering classes that help you feel stronger and more alive. So I’m trying to move carefully and kindly: practical changes, thoughtful communication, and a commitment to do this sustainably.

If this resonates with you — if you’ve felt something similar, or if you want to help shape what we do next — please share one small thing that helps you protect your energy. I’ll read every reply.

And if you need a reminder of why we come to the mat in the first place, you know how great you feel after moving your body. Come to a class, sweat a little, breathe a lot, and leave feeling amazing. That’s what I want for you, for our teachers, and for myself.

Hugs,
— Meg