When I landed my first job working at a radio station making $26,500 a year, I was ecstatic. I was born a storyteller, and I felt like I was following Oprah’s path to success. I was 100% thrilled with what I was doing, right up until I realized how little control I had in my job. Like many before me, I ditched my day job and entered the glamorous world of entrepreneurship - or so I thought. 
When I first started out, I knew it would take a lot of work to succeed. But at the same time, a part of me really glamorized what it meant to be an entrepreneur. I envisioned designer clothes, speaking at sold-out conference centers, exotic trips, and freedom to work when I wanted. And I was willing to do just about everything possible to reach those levels of success as a solopreneur. So I hustled. And I hustled some more. 
I was working 18-hour-days for my clients because I thought that was what it took. I didn’t realize I was killing myself. 
One morning in 2016, I woke up, and I looked like I had been punched in the face. I was putting a ton of pressure on myself, and it was a warning sign. But I ignored it. I was naive.  So of course, I kept hustling.
You see, the fancy cars, clothes, praise from people online can feel like success. But it’s getting knocked down and getting back up that makes you a success. I pushed through because if I was busy, I was worthy. If I was busy, I was a success. And I kept going until my entire face was covered in red welts from stress. But I just kept going. Because that’s what successful people do, right? They keep working.
Then, on August 17, 2017, the pressure caught up with me, and I broke. At 29-years-old, I was told I was exhibiting all the signs of a stroke. I was rushed to the hospital, put through a litany of tests, and they discovered that what I was experiencing was a severe case of burnout. It finally hit home. This was never my dream. 
There’s an ugly truth to entrepreneurship. I was sacrificing my health and relationships, dealing with self-doubt, comparing myself to others, listening to my worst critics, and constantly trying to prove my worth. And I’m not alone. When I finally stopped and looked around, I realized that many of the entrepreneurs I admire the most have similar experiences. But I realized that I didn’t have to live with this ugliness. I could turn my own entrepreneurial experience into something beautiful. 
Here are the lessons my experience burnout have taught me: 
1. Simplify your business plan. Being successful isn’t about working 80+ hours a week and offering every service under the sun. The real equation for success is solution + demand. Create a good product or service that solves a problem, get people to pay for that product, and then go find more people. That’s it!
2. Your superpower is in the mistakes you make. The biggest success stories embrace failure. Every obstacle I’ve hit and every single roadblock I’ve encountered have made me better and stronger. Being successful as an entrepreneur is being good at solving problems. The more problems I’ve solved, the better I’ve gotten at serving my clients. Now, instead of searching for validation, I concentrate on how I can help other people.
The more problems I’ve solved, the better I’ve gotten at serving my clients. Now, instead of searching for validation, I concentrate on how I can help other people.
3. Laser focus your priorities and your time. The most successful people don’t work all the time. They focus on their zone of genius, they stay in their lane, and they focus on creating a great product. They constantly test their products, and they stay customer-obsessed to make sure that they are serving the people who will keep coming back to them and recommend their product to others.
My new business focus, post burnout? Peace. I don’t need to be a billionaire. I just need to feel at peace. I finally understand the necessity of slowing down. Sleep. Taking care of myself. And to achieve this, I had to make some pretty scary decisions. I had to make choices about which revenue streams to cut off to make a business that felt better to me. But I finally understood that blindly working hard is dangerous. And it isn’t sustainable.
Your definition of success might look different. It might be freedom or the ability to give back. It might be financial, not having to think about the cost of what you want to buy, or not having to rely on anyone else. But whatever your success looks like, you aren’t going to get there by working yourself sick. It’s time to focus your energy and find a way to embrace your failures and embrace joy.