The Cost of Always Being Fine: Burnout Hiding as Competence
You're exhausted. Bone-deep, soul-level exhausted. The kind where you wake up already tired, where your nervous system feels like it's been plugged into an electrical outlet for three years straight.
But you're fine.
You hit your targets. You show up to meetings. You handle the crisis at work, the problem at home, the unexpected thing that fell apart yesterday. You're handling it. So fine is what you tell people. Fine is what you believe.
Fine is the lie you've gotten very, very good at telling.
I sat with a CEO last week - brilliant woman, led a team through a massive restructuring, brought in record revenue, hasn't taken a day off in eighteen months. When I asked how she was doing, she said "great, just busy." When I pressed, she admitted she can't remember the last time she felt joy. She cries in her car. She snaps at her kids over nothing. She's gained weight despite working out obsessively. She can't focus even though focus used to be her superpower.
But she's still fine. Still crushing it. Still the one everyone turns to when things need to happen.
I see this pattern constantly in my office. High-achievers who have confused performing competence with actually being okay. Who believe that as long as they're still producing, as long as they're still standing, then burnout isn't real - it's just a season. A phase. Something that happens to people who can't handle pressure.
Not them. They're different.
But here's what I need you to know: You're not different. And the cost of always being fine is far higher than you think.
The Performance of Competence
You learned early that your value lived in what you could produce.
Where this came from:
Parents who showed up for achievements but were emotionally absent otherwise
A first boss who praised your output but never asked how you were actually doing
An upbringing where worth was always conditional - love if you succeed, disappointment if you don't
So you got good at it. Really good. You learned to perform. To show up capable, composed, in control.
What you learned:
Needing help = weakness
Admitting struggle = failure
"I'm fine" = the only acceptable answer
And for a long time, it worked. It got you promotions. Built your reputation. Made people trust you. Kept you safe.
But somewhere along the way, the performance became your identity. You stopped knowing the difference between the mask you wear and who you actually are. The two fused together so completely that you genuinely believe you are fine.
Because you're still functioning. Because you're still producing. Because nobody can see what's happening on the inside.
That's the trap.
How burnout shows up as competence:
Burnout doesn't announce itself with a crisis. It shows up as someone who has it together. Someone handling more than should be humanly possible and somehow still making it look effortless.
You get promoted because of it
You're seen as reliable, steady, solid
People lean on you more
Responsibilities accumulate
The load gets heavier
And you're still fine
Until one day you're not.
Until your body forces you to stop because your mind refused to listen. Until the depression gets so heavy that even getting out of bed feels impossible. Until your marriage ends because your partner got tired of being married to someone who was never actually home. Until you have a panic attack in the grocery store and can't leave your car for an hour.
But even then, there's shame. Even then, you feel like you failed. Like you should have been able to handle it. Like something is wrong with you for breaking when other people seem to be fine.
Except they're not fine either. They're just better at the performance.
What's Actually Happening: The Neuroscience of Chronic Fine-ness
Your brain didn't evolve to be "on" all the time. It evolved to activate during threat, handle the crisis, then return to rest.
The healthy cycle:
Activate → Respond → Recover → Rest
But you don't recover. You've trained yourself not to.
What you've learned instead:
Rest feels irresponsible
Time off feels selfish
Vacation is something you bring your laptop to
Weekends are when you catch up on work
So your amygdala - that ancient threat-detection system in your brain - stays activated. Constantly. It's reading your environment as unsafe. Not safe enough to rest. Not safe enough to be vulnerable. Not safe enough to admit that you're struggling.
What happens to your body:
Flooded with cortisol and adrenaline
Heart rate stays elevated
Nervous system stuck in chronic readiness (designed for hours, not years)
And while your threat-response system is running on overdrive, your prefrontal cortex - the part that thinks clearly, makes good decisions, feels emotions, regulates yourself - is running on fumes.
The consequences:
Worse decision-making
Deteriorating patience
Decreased emotional connection
Creativity goes offline
This is why you can handle the work crisis beautifully but lose it when your partner asks you to empty the dishwasher. Why you haven't cried in months but also haven't felt joy. Why you're tired in a way that sleep doesn't fix.
Your nervous system is exhausted from maintaining the performance.
The insidious part: Your competence actually enables this. You are good under pressure. Your amygdala activation does make you sharp in a crisis. You can push harder than most people. So you have evidence that it works. That you're different.
The problem: Competence under chronic stress is not the same as being okay. Your brain is compensating by running hotter, thinking faster, pushing harder. It's like running your car's engine in high gear all the time.
Sure, it still goes. It still performs. But the engine is deteriorating. The parts are wearing out.
And you won't know until it stops completely.
Where This Comes From
You didn't become a high-achiever by accident. Something taught you that your value was in what you could produce. Something showed you that love was conditional. Something taught you that vulnerability was dangerous.
Common sources:
A parent who was proud of your accomplishments but never asked how you felt about them
A sibling who needed more attention, so you learned to be the "easy one" - the one who didn't need anything, who just performed
Growing up with financial instability, deciding you would never be poor, struggling, or a burden
An organization that valued output above all else, praised people for working through the night
A relationship where you had to manage someone else's emotions constantly, with no space for your own needs
Whatever it was, you learned one equation:
Your worth = Your output Your safety = Your competence Your belonging = Your usefulness
So you built a life around that equation. You kept achieving because achievement meant you were safe, you were worthy, you belonged. And for a long time, it protected you.
But here's what that equation doesn't account for:
You can't achieve your way out of exhaustion
You can't produce yourself into peace
You can't accomplish enough to finally feel okay
The problem was never how much you achieve. The problem is that you're trying to earn something that should be unconditional.
Your worth as a human being should not be conditional on your output. Your belonging should not be dependent on your usefulness. Your safety should not require constant competence.
But you've organized your entire life around these beliefs. You've built your identity on them. The thought of letting them go - the thought of being "ordinary," of having needs, of not being the one with all the answers - feels terrifying.
So you keep performing. You keep being fine. And the cost keeps accumulating.
The Relational Cost: What Fine Costs You
Here's what people don't talk about when they talk about burnout: It's not just hurting you. It's hurting everyone around you.
In Your Partnership: You're physically present but emotionally gone. You eat dinner while checking your phone. You have sex but there's no real intimacy - no vulnerability, no presence, no genuine connection. Your partner can feel it. They know you're somewhere else, even when you're right next to them.
The result: They stop reaching for you. They stop trying to connect. Eventually, they feel lonely in the relationship.
With Your Kids: You're always "busy," always stressed, never fully there. You remember making it to their game, but you don't remember watching them play because you were thinking about work the whole time.
What they learn:
Emotions aren't safe to share because you're always at capacity
They're a responsibility to manage, not a joy to know
Your worth comes from what you achieve (so they push harder, sleep less, are less kind to themselves)
On Your Team: If you're frantic, they become frantic. If you're chronically stressed, they mirror that stress. They know you're burned out - they can feel it - but they can't say anything because you keep pushing forward.
The culture becomes:
Being overwhelmed = normal
Admitting struggle = weakness
Real rest = impossible (the boss won't take it)
In Your Friendships: You stopped reaching out. Stopped being present during conversations. The people who used to be close to you got tired of you never having time for them. Some tried. Most gave up.
The bottom line: You're isolated in your competence. The people who should be your support system have stepped back because they felt the distance you created.
You look successful from the outside, but you're deeply, profoundly alone.
This is what "always being fine" costs. It costs you the very thing that makes life worth living: genuine human connection.
The Accountability Piece: Your Part in Your Own Burnout
Here's where this gets uncomfortable. Because as much as you want to blame the system, the industry, your boss, the market conditions - you have a role in this too.
I'm not saying the system isn't broken. It is. I'm not saying your boss isn't demanding. They probably are. I'm not saying your industry isn't intense. Many are.
But you have more choice than you think. And you're not taking it.
Why you're not:
Rest feels irresponsible
Stopping feels like losing
If you're not producing, who are you? What's your value? What's your purpose?
Being fine has become your identity - it's how people know you, what your reputation is built on
Admitting you're struggling feels like admitting failure, like breaking the contract
You're terrified of what happens if you slow down
What if you discover that you've built a life you don't actually want? What if the thing you've been sacrificing everything for doesn't actually fulfill you? What if you finally stop and realize how much you've missed?
Those are legitimate fears. But they're still fears that you need to look at.
The truth: Nobody is forcing you to work eighteen-hour days except yourself. Nobody is forcing you to check email on vacation except yourself. Nobody is forcing you to answer the phone at midnight except yourself. Nobody is forcing you to be the person who has it all together except yourself.
You're doing it. You're choosing it. And somewhere along the way, you stopped acknowledging that it's a choice.
Accountability means looking at that. Means asking yourself hard questions:
What am I afraid will happen if I stop?
What am I protecting by staying busy?
What belief about my worth am I defending by keeping this pace?
What would I have to feel if I actually stopped long enough to feel it?
These aren't comfortable questions. But they're your questions to answer.
The Body Will Force the Conversation
Here's what I know from years of working with high-achievers: Your mind will not stop you. Your mind will rationalize forever. Your mind will convince you that you're fine even when you're not.
But your body will. Your body will eventually get tired of sending signals that you're ignoring.
How it shows up:
Insomnia that no amount of sleep hygiene fixes
Constant illness - catching every cold, immune system is shot
Digestive issues or chronic pain or skin problems
Persistent low-level anxiety that never quite goes away
Brain fog that makes it hard to focus despite focus being your thing
Physical exhaustion that sleep doesn't touch
Your body is trying to tell you something. It's saying: This pace is unsustainable. This performance is exhausting. This way of living is costing you something you can't get back.
And you can ignore that signal for a while. You can:
Push through the fatigue
Medicate the anxiety
Optimize the sleep
Exercise harder
Eat cleaner
Try to biohack your way out of burnout
But eventually, your body will stop asking nicely. It will force the conversation. It will make the choice for you.
I've seen it happen:
The panic attack that won't stop
The depression that medication can't touch
The autoimmune condition that flares
The moment when your body just says: Enough. I'm done. You're going to have to stop now.
And then you have a choice: You can finally look inward. Or you can keep resisting.
The Way Through
This is not a post about working less, though you probably should. This is not a post about vacation or meditation apps or better time management, though all of those might help.
This is a post about looking at yourself. At your beliefs. At what you're protecting by staying in this performance.
Because here's what actually changes burnout: Changing the beliefs that created it.
You cannot rest your way out of a belief system that says your worth is your output. You cannot vacation your way out of a nervous system that's been trained to see rest as irresponsible. You cannot optimize your way out of a fundamental misunderstanding of what makes life worth living.
What changes it is this: You stop looking outward for answers and start looking inward.
You ask yourself: What am I actually afraid of? Not the surface answer - the real answer. If you stopped being fine, if you admitted you were struggling, if you took a real break, what's the catastrophe you're preventing?
You ask yourself: Where did I learn that my value was in my productivity? Who taught me that? Do I still believe that, or am I just living it on autopilot?
You ask yourself: What would it feel like to be ordinary? To have needs? To not be the one with all the answers?
You ask yourself: What am I avoiding by staying busy? What emotion am I running from? What would I have to face if I finally stopped?
And then - and this is crucial - you get honest about your answers. Not to fix yourself. Not to become more efficient at managing burnout. But to understand what's actually driving this.
Because the real shift doesn't happen when you stop working so hard. It happens when you stop believing that working hard is how you earn your right to exist.
And that's where accountability comes in. That's where you realize: I've been doing this to myself. Not because I'm broken or weak or incapable of rest. But because I've been living according to a belief system that never served me in the first place.
The good news? You can change that. You can choose differently. Not tomorrow when things calm down. Not next year when you've hit this goal. Now.
You can choose to be fine in a different way. Fine as in "at peace." Fine as in "taking care of myself." Fine as in "admitting when I'm struggling." Fine as in "building a life worth living instead of a résumé worth impressing."
It's a different kind of fine. And it's the only kind that actually sustains you.
Your Honest Questions
Stop here. Actually stop. Don't keep scrolling. Sit with these.
The Performance:
When was the last time you admitted you were struggling? Not to a therapist - to the people in your life?
What would happen if you told someone you trusted: "I'm not fine"?
Who would be disappointed? And why does their disappointment matter more than your wellbeing?
The Belief:
Complete this sentence: My worth comes from...
Now ask yourself: Do I actually believe that? Or am I just living like it?
Where did you learn that equation? Was it true then? Is it true now?
The Cost:
What have you missed? The moments with your kids. The conversations with your partner. The friendships that faded. The joy you can't quite access anymore.
What would it feel like to stop and actually experience your life instead of just managing it?
The Fear:
If you stopped. If you admitted you were struggling. If you let yourself be ordinary for a moment.
What's the catastrophe? What's the thing you're actually afraid of?
The Choice:
What's one thing you could do differently this week that would be an act of self-care, not self-indulgence?
And what belief about yourself would have to shift for that to feel okay?
Ready to Stop Being Fine? Recognizing that you're exhausted - truly exhausted - is the hardest first step. But if you're seeing yourself in this pattern of performing competence while burning out, and you're ready to build a life that's actually sustainable, I can help.
Whether you're a leader realizing your team mirrors your burnout, a professional recognizing that your current pace is unsustainable, or someone wondering who you'd be without the constant achievement, specialized coaching makes real, lasting change possible.
The shift doesn't happen by working less. It happens by examining the beliefs that drive you - and choosing differently.
📩 For high-achievers and leaders: If you're ready to examine what's driving your burnout, reclaim your presence with the people who matter, and build sustainable success that doesn't cost you everything - you can sign up for an individual strategy session or one of my executive coaching programs. Schedule your consultation today.
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Rae Francis is an Executive Resilience Coach and therapist, and founder of Rae Francis Consulting. With 16+ years of clinical experience and 14 years of corporate leadership, she specializes in helping high-performing leaders move beyond burnout and into sustainable high performance. Through her executive coaching programs, Rae teaches leaders how to recognize the patterns that create burnout - perfectionism, conditional worth, fear of ordinariness - and develop the accountability and self-awareness to change them. Her approach combines neuroscience, behavioral accountability, and deep clinical insight to help you understand not just what you're doing, but why - and what shifts when you finally get honest about it. Learn more about Rae's executive coaching programs designed to build clarity, sustainable presence, and authentic leadership.
