Burnout can be experienced in different ways. For me, it came in this order: Loss of motivation, decreased satisfaction, no sense of accomplishment, and finally, the cherry on the cake, a sense of failure and self-doubt. Ain’t a lovely combo?
I did not realize it was burnout at that moment. I mainly felt like I was constantly failing. It sucked—big time— but I got out of there. This is my story and the lessons I learned to prevent this from happening again.
The Breaking Point
It’s Wednesday morning. The struggle to get out of bed and go to work grows heavier each day, like a weight pressing down on my chest. I try to remember the last time I looked forward to work—the last time I felt a spark of motivation. A few years ago, I didn’t mind spending an hour navigating Lima’s chaotic traffic. I was eager to start my day, excited to tackle a problem or uncover a new one. But now, something has shifted.
I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, the minutes slipping away. Then, a message lights up my phone. “Breakfast at the new café?” Samoa asks. “I’m in,” Lorena replies. I throw off the covers and rush out the door. For now, this is what keeps me going—my friends at work.
We used to joke about quitting our jobs, tossing around half-serious escape plans over coffee. But for me, it wasn’t just a joke. I wanted to leave, desperately. The problem was—then what? I had no clear path forward. And even if I did, would it really make a difference? It wasn’t just about the company; something inside me felt broken. I wasn’t sure I was good enough anymore.
The day drags on, swallowed by back-to-back meetings. By lunchtime, I’m drained. Conversations at the table are filled with the same grievances, the same frustrations. Office gossip swirls, breeding mistrust. The air feels thick, suffocating.
Evening comes, and instead of facing the traffic, I stay behind. Some nights, I work late. Other times, I play Exploding Kittens or grab dinner with colleagues. The cycle repeats itself, day after day, week after week. A routine I can’t seem to break.
Little did I know, the universe was already plotting something for me.
A Door Opens
One day, out of nowhere, an email from Google landed in my inbox—offering me a scholarship to attend a conference in Prague. I could hardly believe it. A chance to travel, to step away from my routine, to breathe. I seized the opportunity without hesitation, extending my stay in Europe to explore.
And then, another twist of fate. While planning my trip, I discovered that Simon Singh—a writer I was borderline obsessed with at the time—was scheduled to speak at GOTO Berlin. Attending this conference had been a distant dream. But dreams, it seems, have a way of manifesting when you least expect them.
Out of nowhere, another email arrived. This time, from the GOTO team.
Subject: GOTO Berlin
Hi Ursula,
GOTO Berlin was contacted by Eddu.
He saw that we offered an Inclusivity Grant earlier this year
and was asking if we could extend this to you.
We did have one cancellation earlier, and nobody left on the
waiting list, so I can indeed extend this invitation to you.
Please get back to me as soon as possible and we will discuss
further steps.
WHAT?! I stared at my screen, stunned. This wasn’t just luck. This was some kind of cosmic alignment.
Thank you, Eddu!
Berlin, the City That Calls Me Back
My trip was set for November, and Berlin was the city I was most eager to return to—the place where I once left my heart, where I had always imagined myself living one day.
The conference was everything I needed and more.
I listened to incredible talks, met inspiring people, and discovered companies doing fascinating work. I felt refreshed, buzzing with ideas to bring back to the office—real, tangible improvements that could make a difference. And then, a moment that filled me with pride: I had the chance to give a lightning talk about women in tech.
For the first time in months, I felt a spark again. Finally.
But the moment I stepped back into the office, I slammed into the same invisible wall. That unyielding, suffocating wall that had been waiting for me all along. The excitement drained. The weight returned. And I started to suspect that maybe—maybe—it wasn’t just me. Maybe it was something else. But what?
Looking back, I realize I wasn’t aligned with the company’s ways of working or part of its leadership. The tasks I was assigned felt bureaucratic and repetitive, often stalling at higher levels. Progress felt out of reach. Culturally, the environment was shifting—becoming more toxic, more draining.
I didn’t see it then, but I see it now. I was being too hard on myself, blaming my own shortcomings for not thriving in an environment that wasn’t built to support me. I wasn’t getting the right stimulation, the right challenges, the right support. And without those, how could I have expected myself to grow?
The Decision: Time to Let Go
I tried. I really did. I pushed through the challenges at work, hoping things would change. But it wasn’t enough. My struggles weren’t confined to the office—my personal life felt just as heavy, and I wasn’t in a good mental state. The weight of everything at that precise moment made it nearly impossible to push forward.
After many therapy sessions, I finally accepted it: I needed a different approach if I wanted different results. I needed space—to step back, to breathe, to see things from a distance. I needed a break.
It’s decided. I’ll quit.
July 31st will be my last day. And after that? No concrete plans, just a vague but persistent idea: moving to Europe.
Learning to Slow Down
The first month, I took it slowly. It took time to adjust to this new rhythm of life—no deadlines, no meetings, just open space. Most days, I did very little, simply allowing myself to recover. I traveled to Cusco, stayed with my grandmother, and let myself be spoiled with home-cooked meals. For the first time in a long while, I felt at peace.
But then came the restlessness. The unease of too much free time. I started feeling unproductive, like I was floating without direction. That’s when my therapist stepped in.
“Create a schedule,” she said.
So I did.
Redefining Productivity
And, of course, I packed it with activities from morning to night because that’s what productivity meant to me—constant motion. My therapist took one look at it and shook her head.
“No. That’s going to take you straight into another burnout.”
She had a different approach. Instead of filling my days with obligations, she asked me to structure my time around three key things: activities that truly made my soul feel good, the things I must do, and—this one blew my mind—time to do absolutely nothing. I had spent so long underestimating the importance of pausing, of unwinding without guilt.
With that in mind, my new schedule took shape: pilates in the morning, Beat Saber in the afternoons, arts and crafts, quiet moments just for myself, time with friends. I also designed a study plan—mapping out topics I wanted to cover and dedicating two to three days a week to learning.
And it worked. For the first time, I felt relief instead of pressure. I was making progress, but without the weight of exhaustion. I felt balanced—physically, mentally, emotionally. Why? Because I was taking care of myself. I was mixing the things I had to do with the things I loved. And, most importantly, the things I had to do were finally aligned with my values and what truly motivated me.
Facing the Unknown
By the third month of my sabbatical, I felt ready to look for a new job. I start applying for jobs, bracing for rejection. My old friend, the little Saqra—the name of my Impostor Syndrome monster—whispered doubts:
“What if we don’t find a job? What if we run out of savings?”
The fear was real, but I push forward. Worst case scenario? Keep applying.
Interviews came and went—some good, some bad. Self-doubt lurks, but then, a breakthrough: N26. A company that I met during the GOTO conference and a company that excites me to work for. I push through rounds of interviews, each round bringing a mix of nerves and hope. And on November 5th, it happened—I signed the contract.
A new chapter. A new city. Berlin was waiting.
Lessons learned
That’s it—I made it! It’s been three years since my first—and hopefully last!—burnout, and along the way, I’ve picked up a few important lessons:
Be gentle with yourself
When negativity surrounds you, you need an outlet. Whether it’s exercise, meditation, therapy, or talking to friends who offer valuable perspective, find a way to release it.
Most importantly, don’t blame yourself. Often, the circumstances around you simply aren’t the right fit, and that’s something you can change. My therapist helped me recognize what was creating noise in my head and gave me the tools to put it in perspective.
Balance is key. If your mind fixates on a single topic, it will eventually reach a breaking point. I spent my days trapped in a cycle of work and traffic, accumulating frustration without realizing it.
Make space for the things that bring you joy. For me those activities are sports, music, painting, skateboarding, traveling and doing nothing at all to recharge energy. Identify what recharges you and make time for it.
Time management
Managing your time well is crucial for setting realistic expectations. Otherwise is easy to get overwhelm and burnout. For me, that meant creating a study plan, defining clear topics, and limiting study sessions to three days a week to avoid burnout while still making progress. Everyone’s approach will be different, and that’s okay. The key is to find a rhythm that works for you.
Take a break
In today’s fast-paced world, rest doesn’t come naturally—you have to make time for it. There will never be a perfect moment to slow down, so be intentional about scheduling rest. I still do this to this day. No matter how chaotic things get, I dedicate time to recharge so I can return with fresh energy.
The biggest lesson? Pauses aren’t just helpful—they’re necessary. They allow you to reflect, reassess priorities, and make meaningful changes.
Actions and values must be aligned
Burnout doesn’t just come from overworking—it comes from misalignment.
If your job, your environment, or even the way you spend your free time doesn’t align with your values, it will slowly wear you down. Take time to check in with yourself: Are you dedicating your time to what truly matters to you? Are your actions reflecting the life you want to live?
When your values and actions are in sync, life feels lighter, more fulfilling. And that, more than anything, is worth striving for.
