The eyes have it.

Last week I caught up with a? girlfriend? I hadn’t seen in ages.

She is one of those women who I have always regarded with a mix of awe and admiration. Incredibly smart, a catalyst for change, an advocate for women, mum, wife, sibling, friend, ambassador for multiple causes, board member and oh on the side, the CEO of a global company.

Like I said, I have always regarded her with a mix of awe and admiration. Mainly because on top of all that, she always makes time for others.

But this time, something felt different. The same fast paced update. The same positive energy, commitment and drive. The same sense of humour. The same interest in what I was up to.

And yet something was different.

It was in her eyes.

Bone deep exhaustion.

The look you get when you are down to the last drop of your second reserve tank.

The? look you get when you don’t feel you can tell anyone that you have nothing left, because everyone looks to you for support, energy, encouragement and to keep showing up as you always have.

The look that holds perhaps a? hint of desperation, because you really need someone to see through the facade and step in. Take it out of your hands. An energetic intervention if you will.

In my first career, I had that look.?

The pressure, size and expectations that came with the role.

The sheer volume of work that had morphed into a seven day a week commitment.

The infection of ‘busyness' that meant even my close colleagues didn’t notice I was seriously burning out, because they were on the same path themselves.

My inability to set boundaries, wave the flag and be courageous enough to say that I wasn’t in a great place, is also a critical factor here. I guess I tried to (obliquely) reshape my role and create some more space, but I was never bold enough to call it out.

One step in front of the other.

Just keep going.

This is the role.

I can’t look weak.

Everyone else can handle it.

And people’s reactions ARE interesting.

When I left, most people were concerned. Some were horrified that they hadn’t picked up on how I was.?

And my favourite comment: “It’s ok, not everyone can hack being on the ‘A’ team.” ??

Like most things in life, this doesn’t happen in a vortex.

The environment we work in, the scope of our roles, the things we say yes to, are all contributing factors.?

Dated stereotypes also have a lot to answer for.?The ones where our value is judged by the hours we are seen to be working. Or the expectation that as a ‘strong’ leader you can never admit when you are struggling or that the pace is unsustainable.

I’d like to think that we are slowly changing these stereotypes and unrealistic expectations.

But there I was, with this highly successful and accomplished woman who doesn’t feel she can "let her team down" by saying that she also needs some support.

Sometimes, we all need an intervention, especially when we can’t do it for ourselves.

We need to stop treating exhaustion, overwork and chronic ‘busyness’ as the measure of our value and a badge of honour.?

The price of success shouldn’t be your health. Your worth should not be measured in hours, but in outcomes.

Next time you are connecting with someone, really look at them. Their eyes will always tell the true story of how they really are.

Does this resonate with your journey? Have you changed your definition of success as a result?

I’d love to hear your story

Alex