Why Hustling is Hurting You

There’s nothing more disheartening and disillusioning than doing everything right and still ending up in the same place.

At the start of this year, I looked back at everything I had poured into my work in 2024—every podcast episode, every blog post, every thoughtful social media caption, every speaking engagement, every guest appearance on someone else’s platform. I had shown up, shared vulnerably, served with intention, and worked with strategy. I had done what I believed would lead to growth—not just impact, but income.

But when I ran the numbers, they didn’t match the effort. Despite all the energy, visibility, vulnerability, and creativity I had invested, my income decreased. And, as I stared at this harsh reality, something in me flipped on. Like a switch flipping in my nervous system, an old survival code lit up.

The urgency crept in fast and loud. You have to fix this.  You don’t have much time. If you don’t figure this out now, you’ll lose everything. It wasn’t just about money—it was about survival. I’ve been conditioned by early trauma, by family patterns, by life to do whatever it takes to take care of myself, no matter what. To rely on no one. To figure it out. To hustle.

So I did.

I scrambled to launch new things. I signed up for support I couldn’t afford. I bought into shiny solutions and “magic pill” promises that I hoped would fix everything fast, not because I reckless or lacked intelligence or intention, but because I was afraid. I was operating from urgency, from old conditioning, from the story that said: If I don’t do “all of the things” right now, I will lose everything.

In hindsight, I can see exactly what happened. While I wish I had made different choices, I don’t feel regret. I feel clarity.  These decisions taught me exactly what I needed to learn.  What I needed to learn was that I wasn’t being pulled by purpose, I was being pushed by fear.

And that’s what hustle really is for so many of us—not a strategy, not an ambition, but a trauma response dressed up in productivity, disguised as drive.

When Hustle Culture Glorifies the Wound

We live in a world that glorifies hustle. We applaud the late nights, the skipped meals, the endless grind. We celebrate output and reward urgency.  Exhaustion is worn like a badge of honor. Burnout becomes a benchmark for how badly we want something.  

What we don’t talk about is the cost. Or the deeper why.

For many of us—especially high-achieving women of color, first-generation professionals, or children of immigrants, or anyone who’s ever been made to feel they don’t belong, hustle isn’t a choice.  It’s a survival strategy.  

We don’t hustle to protect ourselves—we hustle because somewhere deep down, we believe we won’t make it if we don’t.

If we don’t earn that seat at the table, we’ll be left behind.
If we don’t outwork, outsmart, and outperform, we won’t be seen or chosen.

There is too much risk in slowing down and taking it easy. Because rest without certainty isn’t liberation, it’s vulnerability.  And, we have spent a lifetime learning that vulnerability is dangerous. 

This isn’t just about proving our worth. It’s about justifying our existence in systems that were not built for us.

And even though hustle culture impacts everyone, it hits harder when you’ve been taught your survival depends on staying a step ahead, when you’ve been trained to override your body to stay in the game.

The world rewards our output but ignores our nervous systems. It applauds our resilience but doesn’t ask why we had to be so resilient in the first place.

Hustle culture isn’t just toxic—it’s traumatizing.
Because it keeps us trapped in the very stories that hold us back.

Hustle Culture as a Trauma Response

Hustle isn’t about ambition—it’s about adaptation.

When you grow up with trauma—whether it’s your own or passed down through your family—you learn early that the world is unpredictable. Uncertainty feels dangerous. And when things feel uncertain, your body doesn’t relax—it prepares.

You scan for what’s missing.
You anticipate what could go wrong.
You move quickly to take care of everything and everyone, because not doing so feels like a threat.

In that environment, hustling becomes the antidote to fear.
It becomes the way you try to create safety.

You start to believe that if you just do enough—achieve enough, produce enough, perform well enough—you’ll finally feel let go. That once everything is under control, your nervous system will stop bracing for impact. That ease is waiting for you… just on the other side of one more accomplishment.

But that moment never comes.
Because safety isn’t created through output.
And your nervous system doesn’t find ease through achievement.  It finds ease through safety, slowness, presence, and trust.

When these are absent, we fall back on what we know.  And what we know all too well is hustle.  When trauma goes unexamined and unprocessed, hustle becomes our coping mechanism.  Movement soothes the panic. Productivity numbs the uncertainty. Being needed quiets the fear of being unwanted.

Over time, this trauma pattern wears a groove so deep it feels like personality. Like identity. You begin to believe this is just who you are. But it’s not who you are. It’s who you became to survive.

And while that survival strategy may have gotten you here, it won’t take you where you’re meant to go next.

Pushed by Fear vs. Pulled by Values

When you're in survival mode, movement is constant, but it's not conscious. You’re reacting, not choosing. The pace is fast, but the foundation is shaky. That’s what it feels like to be pushed by fear—your nervous system is bracing, your mind is spiraling, and your decisions are driven by what you’re trying to avoid.

Being pulled by values feels different in your body. There’s still effort, but it’s grounded. You’re moving from a place of clarity, not urgency. Your actions reflect who you are, not just what you're afraid of.

The two may look similar on the outside—working hard, showing up, taking action—but inside, the energy is completely different.

Here’s how you can begin to recognize the difference in real time, both in your body and in your behavior:

Here’s how it often plays out in your head:

When fear is in the driver’s seat, everything feels like an emergency. But when values lead, you access your deepest power.

Where Hustle Culture Hides

In the Workplace. You say yes to everything. You take on tasks that aren’t yours. You consistently work overtime. You micromanage because you don’t trust that things will get done correctly unless you do it yourself. You overperform until you burn out.

In Romantic Relationships. Hustle doesn’t turn off when you clock out. The same instinct to overperform at work shows up at home, especially in moments of uncertainty or financial stress.

You may find yourself overfunctioning in the relationship— trying to do it all, fix it all, manage it all. You take on more than your share, not because your partner asks you to, but because hustle has trained you to equate control with safety.

You might try to control your partner, too, so you manage their mood, their timing, and their decisions. Not to dominate, but to calm your own nervous system.

In Family. For many of us, hustle wasn’t just modeled, it was inherited. We were raised by people who had to hustle to survive. People who didn’t have the luxury of rest, who sacrificed joy for stability, who taught us—explicitly or not—that we must work twice as hard to get half as far.

And we internalized it.

We learned that rest is laziness. That thriving is selfish. That asking for help is weakness.
Even when our circumstances shift, the pattern remains.

You may feel guilty for slowing down, even when you’re exhausted.
You may downplay your success so no one thinks you’ve forgotten where you came from.
You may be chasing freedom with one hand while clinging to inherited struggle with the other.

And without awareness, you pass it on.

To your children. To your siblings. To anyone watching you work yourself to the bone in the name of love, success, or legacy.

In Friendships.  Hustle can sneak into your friendships in ways that are easy to miss.

You might be the one who always gives, always checks in, always shows up, but rarely lets yourself receive the same. You might avoid talking about your struggles because you don’t want to be a burden. Or you may not address an issue that is bothering you because you are afraid that your friends won’t like you anymore.  You are overly useful, but rarely vulnerable, even in your closest friendships, so intimacy is limited.

Hustle convinces you that you have to earn your place in every space—even the ones meant to hold you.

The Cost of The Hustle

The real cost of hustling isn’t just burnout—it’s disconnection. From yourself. From your body. From your loved ones. From your purpose.

You lose access to your inner wisdom. Hustle narrows your vision. You can’t hear your intuition over the sound of your own panic. Strategy turns into scrambling.

Your relationships suffer. You become emotionally unavailable, controlling, or codependent—always trying to earn love and respect the same way you’ve learned to earn safety: by doing more.

You sacrifice your health. You experience adrenal fatigue, insomnia, anxiety, and chronic stress aren’t signs of success. They’re signs your body is carrying the weight of an unsustainable system.

You Don’t Get Where You Thought You Would. This is the quiet heartbreak of hustle.
You do everything. You give everything. You sacrifice time, rest, joy, and connection, believing that all the effort will eventually lead to ease, success, or freedom.

But sometimes, you don’t get there. Because hustle doesn’t guarantee alignment. It doesn’t guarantee clarity. It doesn’t even guarantee results.

In fact, hustling can pull you out of your zone of genius. It can have you chasing opportunities that don’t fit, making impulsive decisions, or burning bridges because you’re too exhausted to discern what’s actually right for you.

The weight of hustle slows you down. Not visibly, but internally. And the more you carry, the more disconnected you become from the very life you’re working so hard to build.

Joy becomes conditional. You convince yourself you can rest after the next launch, milestone, or paycheck. But rest and joy are not rewards—they’re requirements for wholeness.

How to Tell When Hustle is Running the Show

It can be hard to recognize hustle when it’s always been your default. It feels normal. Even productive. But your body knows the truth.

Try this short check-in:

• Is there a sense of panic behind my decision-making?

• Am I acting from fear of what might happen if I don’t do this?

• Does my body feel tight, wired, or braced—like I can’t stop moving?

• Am I ignoring my needs in the name of being “useful” or “productive”?

• Do I feel disconnected from joy, intuition, or rest?

If you answered yes to most of these, hustle might be in the driver’s seat.

This doesn’t mean you’re broken—it means you’re activated. And awareness is the first step toward reclaiming choice.

Let This Be the Last Time You Hustle from Fear

You deserve to create, lead, and build from a place of wholeness, not from the wound.

When you stop letting fear drive your ambition, your work becomes sustainable. Your relationships become deeper. Your leadership becomes magnetic. And your life? It becomes yours again.

Next Up: The Positivity Trap

You’ve started to spot the hustle. You’ve named it, traced its roots, and maybe even felt the cost in your body. But what happens when, in the middle of that awareness, someone tells you to just “think positive”? What happens when the world demands a smile while your nervous system is screaming?

Next week, we’re going there. In Week 2: The Toxic Positivity Trap – Why “Just Think Positive” Is Keeping You Stuck in Your Story, we’ll unpack how forced optimism becomes another form of running from your story. You’ll learn why skipping over discomfort doesn’t lead to liberation; it leads to self-abandonment.