Surviving the Hustle Cult: A Practical Guide
Because sprinting through life just leaves you out of breath and cranky.
We live in a world that treats burnout like a badge of honor. The “10X your life,” “sleep when you’re dead,” and “grind until your bones turn to dust” chants are everywhere. I used to drink that Kool-Aid too, thinking my worth was stapled to how much I could do before collapsing.
And then life happened.
I’m not just a writer trying to crank out a book (or three). I’m also working full-time, caring for an aging parent, dragging my nerve pain-ridden body through every day, and watching my “ongoing house renovation” turn into a multi-year hostage situation. Please, don’t get it wrong. I’m extremely privileged to live in a safe environment and to have a good partner and a job I don’t dislike (most days). But I want you to know that my life is far from perfect. I’m not wrapped in cotton and eating with a golden spoon.
I worked hard for every step forward, and I used to think moving faster meant winning sooner.
But here’s the inconvenient truth: I could do it faster if my life was different. Spoiler alert—it’s not.
Last week, I hit a point where I had to face the ugly mirror. I was wrecked juggling too many priorities and task lists, ready to tap out, and still feeling like a loser for even thinking about hitting pause. Then it clicked. My mental health is worth more than my ego. More than the ridiculous timeline I pulled out of thin air because social media convinced me I’m behind.
Yes, I’m referring to my publishing timeline, absolutely self-imposed but not a bit less real and pressing than an external expectation. Why? Oh, because my inner critic is a tyrant and she loves making me feel small.
Unfortunately, life doesn’t screech to a halt just because we have dreams. In the grand scheme, what’s another month or two? Would I rather be speed-running to the finish line half-dead or actually enjoying both the climb and the view?
This isn’t surrender. This is self-preservation. It’s realizing you can’t pour from an empty cup because eventually, you’ll just be shaking dust.
For me, pacing and grace aren’t luxuries; they’re survival tools.
So yeah, I’m playing the long game now. The house will stop being a construction zone, the books will see daylight, and I’ll do it all with fewer panic attacks and more oxygen in my lungs. The dream’s still alive, but I’m making sure the dreamer stays alive too.
What’s one thing you’re finally permitting yourself to slow down on?
Nicky xox
P.S.: I’m celebrating with a calm evening, my first novel, The Code We Break, going live for pre-orders! It’s a small step towards the release sprint. If you want to support me, please add it to your “want to read” on Goodreads and Amazon. Or maybe you have just been waiting for a competent heroine, a morally grey hacker and a story of redemption and danger. ;)