From Burnout to Creative Freedom: My Journey to Finding Purpose
Six months back in the office after two long years of jagged pandemic lockdowns, I found myself grappling with a strange transition. I’d grown used to the rhythm of working from home and couldn’t fathom returning to the energetic, high-pressure environment I once thrived in.
At the start of 2020, I was teetering on the edge of burnout—a word often overused, but let me paint you a picture. My worth and purpose had become tied to proving I was the most reliable worker. It wasn’t conscious, but this relentless drive toward an undefined goal left me perpetually dissatisfied, constantly anxious, and, of course, exhausted.
Most of what caused my burnout was unintentional energy use. I didn’t yet understand what fuelled me and what drained me—and being blind to it eventually ran me into the ground.
Then the pandemic hit, and the world stopped—including me. Looking back, the timing couldn’t have been better. I remember being excited about skipping the commute, but my routine soon became rolling out of bed, opening my laptop, and diving straight into work.
Ironically, I had daydreamed about being anywhere but work, yet when I finally had the time, I had no idea what to do with it. So, I did what I knew best: I worked, and worked, and worked some more.
It came to a head during a high-profile, high-pressure project. I was logging 14-hour days at the peak of lockdown, with zero weekends to rest and no mental health culture to soften the blow. After two solid weeks of this, I cracked.
My husband stepped in as my voice of reason, urging me to stop. I felt trapped—like I couldn’t leave because I was the only designer bringing the project to life. After a week of back-and-forth between my husband’s reasoning and my Creative Director’s push to “think of the great portfolio piece,” I hit my breaking point.
I finally informed my CD that I’d be stepping away in two days. It wasn’t a request; it was a decision. That project, by the way, was still going two years later.
This experience taught me the value of time, energy, and purpose. At the time, I didn’t respect my own time or energy. I only dreamed of my purpose, imagining it as some distant, unattainable thing. Life had to deliver a hard lesson to wake me up.
And when I woke up, I got to work.
The pandemic gave me space to explore. I devoured wisdom from the likes of Napoleon Hill, Elizabeth Gilbert, Julia Cameron, John Demartini, and Rob Walker. I dusted off an old sketchbook, stapled the first few pages together, and started fresh.
Every drawing became a daily lifeline. After years of working 9-5, I’d lost my creative practice. By the weekends, I was too drained to create anything. I’d forgotten how nourishing it was for my soul.
Suddenly, creating felt like my birthright, and screen time became my rival. I rushed through my work each morning, freeing up my afternoons for stop-motion videos, charcoal sketches, and even oil painting. My dining room has since transition from an office to an art studio, and has remained that way ever since.
Every walk around my neighbourhood became an adventure in observation (which I wrote about in more detail here). I noticed how shadows danced across the pavement, the artworks hidden in rock textures, and the frantic rushing of ants when it was about to rain. I found myself drawn to the dramas of the sky and became an amateur birder. For reasons I still don’t understand, the Kookaburra seems to be an unwelcome guest in my local bird community. And don’t even get me started on the Channel-billed Cuckoo.
Reconnecting with my creativity felt untamed—both cheeky and familiar. I hadn’t realised how far I’d drifted from the authenticity of my creative essence until I stopped and grounded myself.
Creativity flows effortlessly in structured environments like schools, where everything is orchestrated for us. But once we step out into the world, we’re the ones responsible for creating that structure—and finding our people.
During the pandemic, I began asking myself some hard questions:
Is this how I want to spend my time?
Why am I doing this?
If not this, what else?
Do I have the skills to go out on my own?
If I had no job tomorrow, how would I spend my day?
These questions shaped my search for purpose. Purpose isn’t a one-time discovery; it’s deep, ongoing work. It’s a daily decision to stay awake to your life and requires humility, self-awareness, and support.
When I returned to the office, I approached work differently. Instead of fighting the relentless pace, I used it as a playground to experiment, learn, and grow. This shift in perspective turned my joy levels from 2 to 200.
I didn’t feel stuck anymore. I communicated when I hit ceilings, and opportunities opened up before me.
No single workplace can fulfil your soul’s desires—it’s not meant to. Moving within a company, or moving on, allows you to explore, learn, and make an impact. When you know what matters to you, you can move with clarity, intention, and purpose, becoming an unstoppable creative force.
So, let me ask you: What does purpose mean to you, and how will you pursue it in the year ahead?
If you’re feeling stuck, stagnant, or overwhelmed in your creative career, you’re not alone—and you don’t have to navigate it alone. Subscribe to my newsletter and receive weekly insights and tools to help you get unstuck.
After stepping away from the traditional 9-5, I now help creative minds uncover their values and purpose so they can move through their careers with intention, clarity, and ease with 1:1 coaching.
You’ll also gain access to the Create Freely community filled with courses, tools, and resources to shift your mindset and take meaningful action.
