We’ve become accustomed to measuring how well we’re doing by how much we accomplish, how productively we function and how convincingly we hold everything together. A successful career, a packed calendar and the ability to show up for everyone else have become convincing indicators of a life under control. But somewhere along the way, we’ve confused getting through the day with actually being well.
“People think struggling looks like falling apart. Most of the time it looks like success,” observes Noona Nafousi, executive coach and founder of Neo Noor, who works with high-performing executives and leadership teams. “I work with CEOs who look fine on the outside and are running on empty inside. They deliver in the boardroom, but their nervous system is shot behind closed doors.”
According to Noona, the earliest warning signs often go unnoticed because they resemble the pressures of everyday professional life.
“You switch the laptop off, but your head never does. You replay hard conversations for weeks. Rest feels like falling behind. You snap at the people you love most, then wonder who that was and feel guilty for it.”
The coach calls this the dried up well loop, describing the cycle of continuously demanding more of ourselves when our emotional reserves are already depleted. She also challenges the tendency to approach emotional struggles as problems that can be resolved through positive thinking alone. “You can’t think your way out of a body stuck in survival mode.”
Our relationship with boundaries can make this cycle particularly difficult to escape. In a professional culture that rewards availability and productivity, saying no can feel uncomfortable, especially when our sense of self-worth is tied to being needed.
“Boundaries are an identity issue. If you believe your worth comes from being useful, you’ll never say no,” she explains.
Noona recommends beginning with small, deliberate changes. “One meeting declined. One evening with the phone in another room. Notice how you feel after you scroll. If you feel smaller, you have your answer.”
She also advocates Sacred Pausing, a practice of stopping to reconnect with the body and acknowledge emotions that might otherwise remain unaddressed. Whether for five minutes or an hour, she encourages creating space to recognise feelings of overwhelm, alongside breathing exercises and spending time in nature.
Her understanding of emotional resilience is also deeply personal. Having experienced dismissal, the death of her father and the loss of income during the pandemic, Noona knows the difficulty of admitting vulnerability when everyone expects you to have the answers.
“Asking for help didn’t make me weak. It gave me my power back. Give the people who love you a chance to feel needed.”
For all the progress we’ve made in encouraging conversations around mental health, our admiration for self-reliance remains stubbornly intact. We celebrate people who manage everything independently, often overlooking the emotional toll of doing so. As she reminds us, “Two truths can live in the same body. You can love your life and feel overwhelmed by it. That’s human.”
But knowing when everyday overwhelm warrants professional attention is equally important. “When the heaviness stays for weeks, gets worse, and starts affecting your sleep, your work or your relationships, speak to a qualified professional. Coaching and clinical support work beautifully together. One doesn’t replace the other.”
And perhaps her most thought-provoking observation is also a question we rarely ask those who appear to have everything under control.
“Everyone comes to you for answers. Who do you go to?”
