The Messy Middle Isn’t a Detour. It’s Sacred Ground. By Mary Vaz, Burn Bright Coach
We glorify the before-and-after. The hustle. The highlight reel. The comeback and the shiny new chapter. But what about the in-between? What about the days when you're no longer who you were and not yet who you're becoming? The messy middle- that's where most of us live. It’s the space between burnout and clarity. Between holding it all together and quietly falling apart. And if you’ve ever stared at your calendar, your title, your to-do list — and whispered, “Is this it?” — then you already know: the middle can feel incredibly lonely. But here’s the truth we don’t say enough: Your messy middle isn’t something to hide or power through. It is sacred ground — the birthplace of real, lasting transformation. The Burnout You Can’t See in a LinkedIn Bio I work with high-performing leaders who are secretly exhausted. On the social media, they’re thriving. In reality, they’re barely holding it together. Together, we interrupt the autopilot loop of “grind now, rest never” and create a new rhythm - one that honours both ambition and well-being. Because transformation doesn’t start in the boardroom. It starts in the brave decision to let someone walk beside you, to really see you. I know this terrain because I’ve lived it.
The Script I Outgrew I grew up straddling invisible lines, of culture, of class, of expectation. As the eldest daughter in a multicultural family, the unspoken rules were clear: Be grateful. Don’t ask for too much. Work hard. Never complain. Like many daughters raised with that script, I became the fixer. The overachiever. The one who kept everything running. I chased gold stars from school to career milestones until I reached a coveted role: HR Director at a fast- growing startup in Australia. A woman of colour in white, male-dominated boardrooms — I thought I had made it. But burnout doesn’t care about your resume. Behind the polished title was a woman unravelling: Chronic fatigue. Insomnia. Emotional depletion. I wasn’t just tired. I was done. And running the show was my inner critic — “Judgy Mary” — who praised over-functioning and punished rest. Who whispered that asking for help was weakness and that worth must be earned through self-sacrifice.
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