Creative Wellness for Women Who Can’t Switch Off

I recently joined Cat York for a conversation on the Recovery Catalyst podcast about burnout, creativity, and something I think a lot of high-achieving women struggle with: giving ourselves permission to stop holding everything together quite so tightly.

We talked about my somewhat winding path from research scientist to creative wellness coach, what burnout actually looked like for me during the pandemic, and why a few doodles during endless Zoom meetings ended up changing the direction of my life.

But we also talked about boundaries, perfectionism, invisible labour, and the pressure many women feel to keep proving themselves.

Because sometimes burnout isn't just about having too much work.

Sometimes it's about all the things you've quietly decided you can't put down.

I Didn't Wake Up One Morning Burned Out

For me, burnout happened gradually.

During the early days of the pandemic, I was working for a medical device company that had received a major government contract to develop ventilators. There were no vaccines yet, there was tremendous urgency, and we were working constantly.

At home, things weren't exactly peaceful either.

My husband had claimed the home office, so I was working from a folding table and a rickety chair in our bedroom. Meanwhile, one of my kids had just started middle school and the other had just started high school.

Work was everywhere.

Eventually, I stopped sleeping properly because I couldn't stop thinking about it. I became short-tempered with my family. I was exhausted.

And yet I kept going.

That's one of the tricky things about burnout. It doesn't necessarily announce itself.

It's more like the old boiling frog analogy. The temperature keeps going up, little by little, until suddenly you realize you can't cope anymore.

Even My Paintbrushes Felt Like Too Much

Before burnout, art had always been one of my outlets.

I'd go into my studio and paint or make collages. It was something I genuinely enjoyed.

Then I reached a point where I'd walk into that same room, look at all my art supplies and think, I can't.

I couldn't even contemplate choosing something and beginning.

That's still one of the best ways I can describe what burnout felt like for me. It wasn't simply exhaustion. Everything became muted. The things that normally brought colour into my life somehow went grey too.

And when you're in that place, being told to "make more time for the things you love" isn't particularly helpful.

I already knew I loved art.

I just didn't have the capacity for it.

The Way Back Was Smaller Than I Expected

I didn't return to creativity by making a painting.

I doodled.

Honestly, that still makes me laugh because I'd never really considered myself a doodler. I was a bit of an artistic snob about it. If I was going to make art, I was going to sit down and make art.

Apparently burnout had other plans.

During those endless Zoom meetings, I started making repetitive marks on paper.

Nothing impressive.

Nothing I'd frame.

But I noticed something.

My shoulders relaxed.

My breathing slowed.

The scientist in me immediately wanted to know why.

That curiosity led me to explore art therapy, which eventually led me toward coaching and the question that became central to my work: could I combine simple creative practices with a forward-focused approach that helped women make meaningful changes in their lives?

It all started with something I wouldn't have even called art.

There's a Particular Kind of Tired That Comes From Always Saying Yes

One thing Cat and I talked about was the pressure women can feel to keep performing.

I saw it throughout my years in science and engineering environments.

There can be the career pressure to prove yourself, but there's often another layer underneath it. The committee work. The caregiving. The household responsibilities. The things that need organizing. The tasks that somehow find their way onto your plate because everyone assumes you'll handle them.

And if you're someone who doesn't like disappointing people, saying yes can become almost automatic.

For women in STEM*, that combination can be particularly difficult. You may already feel pressure to demonstrate that you belong in the room, while also carrying responsibilities outside it.

Then, for many of us in midlife, there's the sandwich-generation piece too. You may still be supporting children while beginning to take on responsibilities for aging parents.

You can't exactly throw everything into the air and run away.

Although, during burnout, I'll admit the idea of becoming a hermit in the hills sounded pretty appealing.

So what do you do instead?

For me, one of the answers has been boundaries.

Not dramatic, burn-it-all-down boundaries.

Small ones.

Learning to say no sometimes. Asking for help. Deciding where I actually want my energy to go instead of automatically giving it to whoever asks first.

*Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics.

A Blank Piece of Paper Can Tell You Quite a Lot

When I began developing the Creative Reset Program, I worked with women at very different points in their lives.

Some were starting graduate school or considering medical school. Others were established in their careers and wondering what came next. Some were contemplating entrepreneurship.

Different circumstances. Similar challenges.

We used simple creative exercises to look at where they were, where they wanted to go and what might need to change in between.

In a way, it's reverse engineering your life.

If this is where I want to be, what needs to happen now?

Not all at once.

Just the next small step.

The drawings themselves don't have to be good. That's important.

When someone tells me, "I'm not artistic," my response is usually some version of, "Can you play Pictionary?"

If the answer is yes, we're fine.

You need a piece of paper and something to draw with.

That's it.

Then Someone Draws a Troll

One of the reasons I love using drawing in coaching is that things sometimes appear on the page that surprise us.

There's an exercise I use where you draw yourself on one side of a body of water and something you want on the other side. Then you draw the bridge that will help you get there.

You can draw any bridge you want.

And yet women will sometimes draw the most precarious little bridge imaginable.

Missing planks.

Frayed ropes.

A difficult crossing.

I'm looking at it thinking, Why are you making this so hard? You could have drawn the Golden Gate Bridge.

One woman even drew a troll underneath hers.

When we talked about it, she realized the troll was her.

She was the obstacle.

That's the kind of insight that can be difficult to reach when your thoughts are simply circling around inside your head. Once they're sitting in front of you on a piece of paper, you can have a different conversation with them.

Sometimes a slightly wonky drawing tells you something a perfectly organized list never could.

The Women Who Said They Had No Time Found More of It

This was one of the most interesting patterns I saw in my coaching.

When I asked women about the biggest barrier to participating in the program, the answer was often time.

Of course it was.

They were already busy. Now I was asking them to add something else?

But when I asked about the benefits afterwards, something surprising happened.

They told me they had more time.

Not because we'd discovered a secret twenty-fifth hour in the day.

They'd started looking differently at how they were using the twenty-four they already had.

They'd put boundaries in place.

They'd delegated.

They'd asked for help.

They'd stopped automatically joining every committee because everyone expected them to say yes.

They began choosing.

That's a very different relationship with time.

Maybe "Good Enough" Is Actually a Skill

Perfectionism came up in our conversation too, particularly when we talked about making art.

There's a frustrating gap that can happen when you know what you want something to look like, but you don't yet have the ability to make it happen.

You can see the beautiful landscape in your head.

Unfortunately, the tree on your canvas refuses to cooperate.

I know that feeling very well.

The temptation is to keep adjusting.

One more brushstroke.

Maybe fix this bit.

Actually, now I've made it worse.

Let me go back.

You could continue forever.

At some point, you have to decide it's done.

I'm beginning to think that's an important skill far beyond the art studio.

What does good enough look like?

When can you stop tinkering?

When can you send the email, finish the report, serve the meal, submit the application or close the laptop without trying to make it just a little bit better?

I'm still working on this one myself.

I Actually Like Getting Messy

We also talked about digital versus physical creativity.

I've experimented with digital collage and tools like Procreate, and I can absolutely see their appeal.

But I missed the physical experience.

Paint.

Paper.

Texture.

The unpredictability of making a mark and discovering it isn't quite what you intended.

For me, getting a little messy is part of the point.

When so much of your professional life depends on precision and getting things right, there's something freeing about having one part of your life where you don't have to be polished.

You can experiment.

You can make an ugly painting.

You can change your mind.

You can make a mess.

And nothing terrible happens.

Try This the Next Time Your Brain Won't Switch Off

You don't need an hour.

Give yourself five minutes.

Take a pen or pencil and put it on a piece of paper. As you breathe, let your hand move.

Don't draw anything in particular.

Just make lines in rhythm with your breath.

Pay attention to the feeling of the pen against the paper. Notice your hand moving. Notice your breathing.

Your first marks might be sharp and quick.

Keep going.

See whether they change.

You can also put on a piece of music and let your hand respond to the sound instead.

The goal isn't the drawing.

You're giving your attention somewhere else to land for a few minutes instead of asking your brain to keep planning, solving and executing.

That's a very different kind of pause from scrolling through your phone.

Your Life Doesn't Have to Fit Into One Box

Something else I've been thinking about lately is how easily we define ourselves by one thing.

Scientist.

Artist.

Coach.

Mother.

Professional.

I've spent a lot of my life moving between identities, and I'm realizing I don't necessarily have to choose.

These days, I coach. I make art. I do bookkeeping, which satisfies the very logical part of my brain. And I've started making room for writing too.

Different parts of me need different things.

Sometimes structure helps me feel grounded. When I'm anxious, I actually crave it. At other times, I need more space and flexibility.

I'm learning to pay attention to which one I need instead of assuming there's one correct way to organize my life.

Maybe that's part of recovering from burnout too.

You stop trying to force yourself into the version of your life that looks right on paper and start paying attention to the version that actually works for you.

What Have You Been Too Busy to Notice?

One of my favourite creative exercises is called Filling Your Cup.

You draw a simple cup and begin filling it with the things that give you energy or joy.

Nothing complicated.

But one woman told me that after doing the exercise, she began looking around her everyday life for things she could add to her cup.

I love that.

Because that's really what these practices are about.

Awareness.

Intent.

Getting off autopilot long enough to notice what's around you and what's happening inside you.

So here's a question you might sit with today:

What would you put in your cup right now?

Not what should be there.

Not what sounds productive.

What actually gives something back to you?

Maybe it's painting.

Maybe it's gardening.

Maybe it's music, reading, cooking, photography, walking the dog, writing badly in a notebook, or sitting somewhere quiet with a cup of coffee.

Start there.

You don't need to completely redesign your life.

You don't need to become an artist.

And you certainly don't need another project to succeed at.

Sometimes you just need five minutes to remember that there's more to you than the person who gets everything done.

If you'd like a little help making that space, my free 5-Day Creative Reset Challenge is a simple way to experiment with creative wellness without adding another big commitment to your schedule.

You can also subscribe to The Creative Shift, my weekly newsletter, where I share practical ideas about creativity, stress, burnout, and building small moments of breathing room into a busy life.

Because creativity doesn't have to be one more thing on your to-do list.

It might be one of the things that helps you step away from it for a while.