Most people aren’t burned out because they’re tired. They’re burned out because they’re grieving.

Not grieving a person, necessarily,
but grieving a version of themselves that no longer fits.

And neuroscience backs this up.

If you still equate midlife with decline, you’re not just outdated…
you’re misreading the science and the economics.

You keep chasing “younger, cheaper” workers while quietly pushing out the one generation holding everything together: Generation X.

When I posted about hashtag#GenZ and workplace anxiety earlier this week, I had no idea how deeply it would resonate. But the more I reflect on the responses—the stories shared—the more I realise this isn’t just about Gen Z.

When I posted about hashtag#GenZ and workplace anxiety earlier this week, I had no idea how deeply it would resonate. But the more I reflect on the responses—the stories shared—the more I realise this isn’t just about Gen Z.

I recently posted something personal—about liminality, that strange, often uncomfortable space between what was and what’s not yet.

I wasn’t expecting much.
But the response really stopped me in my tracks.

People I admire shared their own stories—moments after divorce, redundancy, reinvention—where they’d lived in that in-between.

What’s coming isn’t just another restructure. It’s not just about redundancy or needing to update your résumé.
This next shift is global.
It’s geopolitical.
It’s psychological.
It’s personal.

Let’s be honest—most workplaces say the right things.
Mental health days. EAPs. Leadership training. Psychological safety.
And a lot of it is genuine. We have come a long way.
But Gen Z—those born from the late ’90s to early 2010s—are still quietly (or not-so-quietly) struggling.