Burdened By Burnout: A Two-Part Story About Exiting Grind Culture

Mide Akerewusi • July 9, 2025

Part One: In The Beginning


"Self-care is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation." — Audre Lorde


When agentsC launched 10 years ago, I imagined I would celebrate incredible milestones in the future. I didn't know precisely what these milestones would be but I knew they would require hard work. Hard work has since translated into repetitive burnout in pursuit of success. So much so, that by April 2020, five years in and deep into the COVID-19 pandemic, I quietly placed a calendar reminder: “April 1, 2025... Retire.” This wasn’t a futuristic April Fool’s joke. It was an aspiration—a serious commitment to soon stop working, to rest, and to imagine a life beyond the relentless culture of doing and grinding.


April 2025 has come and gone. I am perhaps too young to retire—disappointing news for the younger me who had dreamed that by now, I would be putting my feet up on a sandy beach, feeling the warm tropical ocean breeze, and sipping on an ice-cold gin and tonic (my hot weather beverage of choice). As the fantasy of retirement began to fade in 2023. I instead began planning something more realistic, determined to treat myself to a long break: A sabbatical. The only problem? I was running a thriving business with a packed client roster and a team of five employees. 


For the past decade, agentsC's mission has been to add value to our clients’ work, bring diverse thought and knowledge to issues, and help expand the boundaries of fundraising, philanthropy and social change beyond our current imaginations and conventions. Our journey in advancing social change has felt incredible. This year also marks a major milestone—five years of Giving Black™, our platform dedicated to celebrating global Black philanthropy through conferences, podcasts, soirees, and an award for philanthropic achievement. Through Giving Black™, we’ve proudly amplified global Black philanthropy and celebrated the powerful ways Black communities contribute to social change in both culture and the practice of giving.


How could I turn my back on all that was going on, and all that I was responsible for?


Ten Years of Busyness


"Burnout is not the price you have to pay to be successful." — Arianna Huffington


As the proud CEO of agentsC, I have always valued the freedom to express my love fully for social justice. I loved the work I was doing. I loved building a business. I loved being in important conversations with boards and CEOs and executive teams about the brave new world our dreams could explore. I loved the process of change, and I loved being entrusted by so many people and organizations to help shape the direction of their important work.


I often revelled in the privilege of being a friend and confidant to so many incredible leaders undertaking some of the most complex, intricate, and risky responsibilities of their careers. It felt like the perfect symbiosis between my vocation and profession. 


The mounting responsibilities of business and busy-ness made me restless, pensive, and demanding. I began to feel the pain of being a CEO who, day by day, week by week, month by month, and year after year was in a cycle of perpetual work with minimum breaks and hardly any rest. 


On the surface, I appeared to be flourishing, but underneath, I was struggling—burning out and recovering, recovering and burning out again and again. The pressure to succeed was more than intense. I felt it in my bones and in my fibres. My staff felt it, too. In the absence of coping mechanisms for overwork, I had no choice but to continue with this seemingly unstoppable pace of work intensity.


In any line of work, there comes a point where we reach our limits—knowing where that is requires a great deal of self-honesty and fearlessness. Initially, my limits did not come from my own analysis. It was people in my family and friend circle who sounded the alarm. As their signals grew louder, I increasingly felt my pride as a CEO give way to a growing awareness of the toll that constant pressure of unrelenting work was taking on me. My friend and fellow Co-Conspirator and board member, Esther Saehyun Lee gifted me a Rest Deck to encourage me slow down. At the same time, my Sister friend Nneka Allen, CFRE, COC, PCC was leading by example by taking month-long sabbaticals twice a year. Initially, I considered sabbaticals mildly religious, and somewhat quaint and esoteric. My urge was to continue working unabated, despite the loud warning signals to rest from work.


And yet, I couldn’t ignore the toll that work at agentsC was taking on me. I routinely worked 10-to-16-hour days, including weekends. I was addicted to work but in denial about this fact. I felt guilty whenever I was not working. What I had convinced myself were just the normal demands of an aspiring company of our size were, in reality, unhealthy and unsustainable work habits. We were doing far too much, too fast, for too long; agentsC was taking over my life and the lives of my team, and it began to show.


Built For Burnout


"The expectation that we can be immersed in suffering and loss daily and not be touched by it is as unrealistic as expecting to walk through water without getting wet." — Rachel Naomi Remen


Whenever I am asked what it’s like to run a business, I tend to be enthusiastic with my response. I tell people how great it is to exercise one’s independence, allow full creativity, and participate in an ecosystem of like-minded business people. I also share that business requires perpetual work to be successful – especially if you are (like me) a Black immigrant.


The complexities of being Black, occupying immigrant status, and owning one’s own business in Canada have a compounding effect:


These are not passive statistics—they are dynamic realities at the intersection of race, immigrant status, and business ownership. As a Black immigrant entrepreneur, I too used my own finances to start agentsC – no angel investor, no bank loan, no co-founders. I felt and knew I was alone in this venture, and had to prove I could make it work. I had also quit my job without having a client base. In my first year, I made less than $70,000, not enough to survive on or meet my bills. At the time, I was entering the Canadian consulting/agency environment, I also felt like I was possibly the only Black CEO doing this work. The feeling of isolation was ever-present. The decision to build a staff team over a freelance team created additional financial pressures – meeting the demands of a growing payroll each month using only the money we made, felt like a game of roulette. 


Navigating this trifecta (Black, immigrant, business person) added an immense amount of work to an already demanding business environment of balancing the books, service development, product delivery, Canada Revenue Agency (CRA) compliance, and marketing and communications, to name a few recurring responsibilities.


From the start, I was in a complicated situation where it was hard to show-up as Black business person and also demonstrate that I was a capable business person. Capabilities are one thing; there are also complexities that Black people in business experience in our pursuit to earn trusting business relationships within our own communities and in white-majority, and other racially diverse organizations. I begrudged my own efforts to address the perceived “risk” that came with choosing agentsC Inc., as a Black-led agency in a business environment of mostly white-led organizations, agencies, and consulting firms. This is not an argument of victimhood. I am simply aiming to describe what was happening around me as burnout was happening within me.


And yet, despite these barriers, we built a wonderful, supportive client base—people and organizations who recognized the distinct value agentsC’s diverse team offered, and were genuinely eager to work with us and trust our guidance. I've had the privilege of working with more than 100 social and environmental change organizations across Canada and internationally, supporting them through fundraising, philanthropy, and strategic consulting. agentsC has built connections with thousands of diverse change-makers and cause-driven leaders while leading collaborations on the most inspiring projects. 


My preoccupation has always been to serve our clients well, and to go above and beyond their required expectations. This was never a contractual obligation. Moreso, it was a reflection of my immigrant mindset. This perhaps made me more prone to overwork and work addiction. 


I realized I had never figured out how to survive, thrive, or be successful without working constantly or feeling the pressure to be exceptional in every area. Hard work had its rewards but I felt there was much more I should be enjoying or benefitting from. Ironically, the very places where I invested the most time, energy, and resources in the name of success were also the areas that began to deplete me. Hard work was my fuel and my burden.


Over time, the imbalance of work in my life challenged my mental and physical wellbeing—and even my basic ability to work and live a full life. I came to understand that these factors were the root of my burnout. Something needed to change, and I was ready to change. But how? 


The first step to recovery is to believe in the truth that burnout is a burden and rest is both a solution and a right. None of us deserve to be burdened by burnout.


In the second part of my story: Spelling Out Burnout, I share how burnout continued to manifest in my life, and how my sabbatical was the perfect antidote. I also share advice on how to plan for a sabbatical. For now, I’ll remind you of another stirring quote to help you or someone you know feel assured that there are personalized solutions to navigate rest, minimize grind culture, and prevent burnout: 


"Rest is not a luxury. Rest is resistance." — Tricia Hersey, The Nap Ministry.