The Year I Burned Out Trying to Be Perfect—And What Finally Changed

 Let me guess…

You’ve always been someone who strives to do things right.

You make the list, set the standard, show up with every ounce of good intention—and still somehow, you end up burned out. Or frozen. Or beating yourself up because even your best never feels like enough.

You’ve been told that you’re “high-functioning”... but lately, it doesn’t feel like you’re functioning at all.

And what’s even more frustrating?
You know how to work hard. You want to do well.
So why does everything feel so heavy now?

If you’ve been stuck in that tension—between the person you’ve always been, and the one who’s quietly falling apart—you’re not alone.

Today, I want to share a story I’ve never fully told before. About the year I completely collapsed under the weight of trying to be perfect. And what finally helped me get out of the spiral.

This isn’t just about burnout. It’s about realizing that the rules we were taught to follow—the ones that made us succeed in the first place—might actually be the ones holding us back now.

PART 1: SETTING THE STAGE

For most of my life, I was that person—the one who always had a plan, always hit the mark. Good grades. Leadership roles. The one everyone could count on.

I didn’t just like structure and routine… I needed it. It made me feel safe, focused, accomplished. Like I had a handle on life.

But what I didn’t realize was that all that “success” was built on a very fragile foundation:
Constant performance.
Relentless self-pressure.
And this belief that if I ever slowed down, it meant I was failing.

PART 2: THE COLLAPSE

I always had insanely high expectations of myself, and I wanted to do things my way or only a way that I 100% believed in. It’s because of that that I didn’t go to a traditional college. I did for a semester or so to give me a little time to decide, and I also had a year of auditioning for music schools across the country…

But ultimately, I decided that I wasn’t satisfied with anyone else’s curriculum.

Or the money I’d be paying.

Or the opportunities I’d be getting… 

So I made my own. 

I looked online for professors to trial with and to see if they could meet me where I needed to be met.

I found a world-renowned opera teacher and critic in New York, and I found four different language coaches for the different languages I wanted to learn—as well as a piano teacher. 

I packed my bags, moved to New York with no job and no safety net, and found the most extravagant, entry-level job at a three-michelin star restaurant working about forty-fifty hours a week. To top it off, I was having eight lessons a week. Three vocal lessons, four language lessons, and one piano lesson. 

I was paying them all from my full time job. I had this perfectly curated plan about the kind of education that I wanted to receive, and then how I’d fill in all the gaps that would have been provided in a typical conservatory. All of my performing experiences, the connections and networking… I had a plan for all of it.

My teacher was fully on board. He was old school in the best way possible, which is exactly what I wanted in terms of my opera study. But I remember a very distinct time before I moved to New York. 

I was talking to my then boyfriend, who’s now my husband, and I said, “I’m really nervous about moving and having an extensive schedule and job (even though I didn’t know which job) because for my entire life, I’ve always had a problem with following through and doing what I wanted to (aka executive dysfunction).”

 I’d notoriously set so many expectations for myself in other areas of life like my high-school vocal studies, my exercising routines, my health, the way I cooked or cleaned my home… all of those things. And I always fell short. I always showed up on the outside, but never on the day to day.

And he said, “Well, when the stakes are that high, when you have real deadlines and teachers to answer to, it won’t be so hard.”

And he was right… sort of. 

But what happened was, I’d show up to my lessons, do the bare minimum so as not to waste their time, and I’d do nothing else. I’d have a whole day of self-study planned, say 6 hours before work, (Italian for this long, voice for this long, etc) and I’d just let the time pass.

I beat myself up the entire day. I really wanted to do it. This really mattered to me, and I could not for the life of me figure out what was wrong with me. 

And so, I crashed. All I could do was my job and the lessons, although slowly one by one I let my teachers go. 

It even got to a point of doing voice only once a week (which was not enough for professional study). 

Now the job didn’t help, because I had an hour commute each way and I was there till two in the morning on a daily basis. But I really did like my job. I could’ve kept it under the right circumstances. 

And yet, everything just came to a head, and I crashed. I quit my job with little notice, I told my teacher I needed a break, and we came back to Virginia for a month for me to figure out if I could do this at all. I thought by creating my own expectations, structures, and curriculum that I was finally going to be free. That I would finally be able to fulfill all the things I wanted to be and all of my goals. The one who got up early and did her own school and had the prestigious full time job. 

But without the structure I’d come to rely on, the very structure holding me captive, I lost myself. Because I had no idea who I was without a to-do list to prove my worth.

This was the moment I realized:
I hadn’t built my life around me.
I had built it around what I thought I had to be.

PART 3: THE SHIFT

At first, I thought I needed to be more disciplined. More focused. More productive.

But the truth is—what I needed was to unlearn the belief that my value came from how well I performed.

I had to start rebuilding motivation, structure, and self-trust from the inside out—not from guilt or pressure, but from permission.

Permission to go at my own pace.
Permission to define my own success.
Permission to create systems that supported my nervous system—not punished it.

And that’s what I want to share with you.

If any part of this is resonating—if you’re in the thick of that same spiral—I want to invite you to download my free resource, “The Self-Trust Guide.” It helps you realign what you’re pursuing with who you are on the inside, and who you’re striving to be. 

It walks you through the exact mindset shifts and micro-steps that helped me go from frozen and overwhelmed… to grounded and focused again. It’s totally free, and it’s a gentle starting place if you’ve been stuck in burnout.

PART 4: UNLEARNING THE OLD RULES

Here’s the hardest part no one talks about:

It’s not just about doing things differently.
It’s about thinking differently.

We were raised in systems that taught us:

• Rest is lazy.

• Results are everything.

• You’re only doing well if you’re pushing hard.
  

But those beliefs? They don’t hold up when your nervous system is overwhelmed.

They don’t work when you’re trying to build a meaningful life—not just a productive one.

So the question becomes:

What would it look like to rebuild your life—not around performance, but around presence?

Not around pressure, but around purpose?

That’s the work I’ve spent the last few years doing—for myself, and now with clients who are navigating the exact same crossroads.

And if you’re at that point—where you know something has to change, but you don’t want to do it alone—I’d love to invite you to apply for a free discovery call.

It’s a space to talk through what’s really going on, name the patterns, and explore whether my coaching program might be the right next step for you. No pressure, just clarity.
You can find the link here—and if your gut is saying “maybe”… I encourage you to follow that nudge.

You’re not broken for feeling stuck.
You’re not lazy.
You’re not failing.

You’ve just been carrying rules that were never meant to sustain you.

And it’s okay to let them go.

With love always,

Anna