Burnout is hot.
You get overwhelmed, exhausted, you push too far, you can’t go anymore.
I burned out from my job at Backpacker magazine.
The last straw was the year the company gave us the week off between Christmas and New Year’s…but I spent that whole time busting my butt (alone) to get our next online education course launched by an arbitrary deadline.
I felt sad and resentful.
A few months later, I left the company.
Rust-out is different.
It’s a term I learned from my teacher Gay Hendricks. He defines it as “burnout that happens in slow motion.”
“The damage occurs gradually,” Gay writes in The Big Leap Year, “like iron patio furniture left out in the weather for years—so you may not be aware of the extent of the rust until it becomes too obvious to ignore.”
I don’t think I’ve ever rusted out of a job. But I rusted out of my marriage.
We avoided hard conversations. We didn’t share our real dreams or fears.
Over time, the metal corroded.
Rust-out is what happens when you stop expressing who you really are.
When you move more from tension instead of from truth.
When the critical committee in your brain is running the show and your body’s wisdom never gets a say.
Here are a few signs you’re suffering from rust-out:
- You’re not miserable — but you’re not lit up, either. You coast through your days, doing what’s expected.
- You stay busy but not alive. Scrolling. Organizing. Helping everyone else. Anything but the thing that actually calls to you.
- You avoid honest conversations — with others or with yourself. You feel truth bubbling under the surface, but you keep the lid on.
- You secretly long for something more, but it feels safer to stay where you are. The cost of change seems higher than the cost of staying stuck… until one day it isn’t.
- You catch yourself wondering, “Is this it?” — and instantly push the thought away.
Here’s the good news about rust-out: it’s completely reversible.
You can come back to life by committing to your genius.
And by “genius,” I don’t mean hustling harder or chasing some perfect version of success.
I mean the part of you that comes alive when your body relaxes.
When your nervous system isn’t bracing.
When you’re tuned in to your deep, inner wisdom—the part that already knows what’s true.
From that calm state, everything shifts.
Decisions get easier.
Life gets lighter.
You attract more synchronicity.
You feel on purpose.
That’s what committing to your genius means.
Tiny steps count.
One truthful conversation.
One brave expression.
One moment where you unclench your jaw or soften your belly.
Every act of self-alignment scrapes off a little more rust.
Your genius—your calm, powerful, inner-guided state—is WD-40 for the soul.
If you want to reverse rust-out, this is how you begin.
But it’s tough to do alone.
That’s why I’m offering a full year of support for entrepreneurs and creators who are ready to stop operating from tension and start moving from grounded power.
A year of nervous system regulation, fear-shifting, and real-time action—guided by your own wisdom and aligned with life.
If you read this and your body feels that subtle yes — that little sense of “oh… I want that” — then this might be your next right step.
Hit reply and let’s talk.
I’ll help you feel into whether this year-long container is the right environment for your genius to re-emerge.
In the meantime, take a deep breath, and shake your body. That’ll keep the rust off for just now.
Brilliantly yours,
Rachel
PS – You’re allowed to want more — even if things look “fine.” And there’s no perfect timing for change. Your genius is ready when you are. Want to feel into whether this year is your space? Let’s talk.
