She Didn’t Know She Was Burned Out – Reclaiming Creative Joy

She Didn’t Know She Was Burned Out

…until her paintbrush felt like a stranger.

I have a little story to share with you today.

She didn’t realize she was burned out. She still showed up, answered emails, made dinner, and smiled. But her art supplies sat untouched, her favorite journal gathered dust on the shelf, and even music felt like noise instead of melody. It wasn’t until she dipped her brush into a tray of watercolors—the same brush she once adored—and felt… nothing, that it finally registered. The handle, once familiar, felt stiff in her hand. The colors that used to spark joy now just sat there on the palette, swirling in silence. She hadn’t created in weeks, maybe even months. And worse—she hadn’t missed it.

Until that moment, when she realized she didn’t recognize herself anymore.

I remember a day just like that. I stood at my art table, staring at a blank page. I dipped my brush into my favorite Opera Pink, but instead of feeling excitement, I felt paralyzed and anxious. I second-guessed every move before making it. I rearranged supplies I didn’t use. I got distracted, made tea, and scrolled through Instagram searching for a feeling I couldn’t quite name.

What I didn’t realize at the time was that I wasn’t just experiencing creative block; I was burned out, completely. I had given so much of myself to my students, my family, and various expectations that I had nothing left for me. And because I wasn’t obviously falling apart, because I was still functioning, I didn’t recognize how deeply disconnected I had become.

Sometimes burnout doesn’t scream. It whispers. It shows up as a blank stare at the page, a favorite paintbrush that feels too heavy, or a quiet ache when someone else posts art, and you wonder, “Why can’t I create anything like that anymore?” I understand that the idea of starting again can feel overwhelming and scary. But you don’t need a complete life overhaul; you need a gentle return.

For me, it started with a messy page, torn paper, scribbled words, colors I didn’t overthink. There was no plan, no specific outcome, and no need for perfection. Just journal pages that allowed me to feel something again. That’s when things began to shift. I gave myself permission to reclaim a tiny piece of it.

What if you tried this today? 

• Grab a pen and paper.
• Scribble what you’re feeling, write with absolutely no filters.
• Paint with your non-dominant hand.
• Glue something random to the page.
• Let it be wild, messy, ugly, beautiful. Let it be yours.

Your soul doesn’t crave perfection; she wants to know that you’re still listening.

P.S. This week, I’m launching Free Your Creative Soul, a gentle, soulful course for women ready to reconnect with their art and themselves. It’s not about doing it right, it’s about remembering who you are through paint, paper, movement, and messy joy. If that resonates with you, come take a look here.

You’re not too late. You’re right on time.