Ever wondered why nothing excites you anymore, even things you used to love? Let’s uncover where joy goes in burnout, and how to bring it back.

Welcome to The Lawyer Burnout Solution, the podcast for women attorneys who want to stay in the careers they worked so hard to build—without running themselves into the ground. I’m Heather Mills, and every week, I’ll share the tools, strategies, and mindset shifts you need to reclaim your energy, confidence, and career.

In today’s episode, we’re talking about joy—not the performance of it, but the quiet, real kind that burnout steals. We’ll explore why joy feels inaccessible when you’re stuck in survival mode, how burnout numbs your emotional range, and what it actually takes to start feeling again—not by chasing joy, but by creating space for it.

Let me start with something I hear from clients a lot—and something I’ve experienced myself:

It sounds like this: 

“I used to feel excited about things. My work, my friendships, travel, music, sports… Now everything just feels...flat.”

That numbness isn’t laziness. It’s not ungratefulness. And it’s definitely not a sign that something’s wrong with you.

It’s a nervous system stuck in survival mode. When you’re burned out, your stress response stays switched on. Your brain is flooded with cortisol, and everything non-essential gets pushed aside—including joy.

And joy? Joy doesn’t register as “essential.” So your body literally deprioritizes it.

One client, an associate in a busy litigation group, told me: “I should be excited—I just got staffed on a major case. But all I feel is dread.”

That’s not entitlement. That’s burnout. You’ve spent years being rewarded for anticipating what could go wrong—spotting risks, catching mistakes, seeing problems before they happen. So of course joy feels foreign.

If you’ve lost touch with joy, that doesn’t mean you’re a joyless person. Your brain has been trained in way that doesn’t lead to joy. And you can rewire your brain to experience more joy. 

But not by forcing joy or making forced gratitude lists or anything else instagram tells you to do. We begin by understanding what’s been taking up all the space where joy used to live. So let’s talk about that now. 

It’s not just that you’re missing joy.

What’s getting glossed over is that you’re not feeling much of anything. “Many” of the women I work with aren’t just exhausted. They’re emotionally numb. They’re not falling apart at their desks. They’re holding it together. Smiling. Producing. Powering through.

But underneath the surface? They’re avoiding the emotions that feel too messy or inconvenient or unsafe to feel.

One of my clients who was juggling her caseload, raising two young kids, and managing her mom’s declining health told me that she didn’t really have time to know what she was feeling. It felt like too many responsibilities to take the time to figure out what she was feeling.

I could relate because I had similar thoughts when I was burned out. She was carrying grief, resentment, and guilt—but not acknowledging any of it.

So here’s the part no one tells you: You can’t selectively numb. When you suppress grief, you suppress joy too. If you want to feel joy or excitement, you have to make room for it by feeling the grief and sadness. Or anger and resentment. Or guilt and shame. 

I remember sitting on a plane, reading one of Brené Brown’s books. She was telling a story that was incredibly sad—and I started to cry. Not a quiet tear, but a full-body release.

And what hit me wasn’t just the emotion of her story. It was the fact that I couldn’t remember the last time I’d cried. Months, maybe years.

That moment on the plane was an a-ha for me: something was wrong.
I didn’t feel like myself anymore. I had been powering through for so long that I’d lost touch with my emotions.

And when you lose access to emotions like grief and sadness—you lose access to joy, too. You’re just going through the motions. But when you start to make space for sadness, anger, even fear—without judging yourself for having those emotions— you begin to reclaim your full emotional range. And that’s when joy can re-enter.

​​There’s a reason I talk about joy so much in my work with burned-out women lawyers. Because it’s not just a bonus at the end of healing—it’s often one of the first signs that you’re coming back to yourself.

In my Clarity Catalyst™ Method, there are six phases that support that shift. But today, I want to share two that are especially powerful when it comes to making space for joy again.

One of the first things we do is help you notice what’s driving your exhaustion driving your exhaustion—not just on your calendar, but in your mind.  There’s a simple practice I teach called the TEA Practice: Thoughts, Emotions, Actions. Your thoughts shape your emotions, which drive your behavior. And when you’re burned out, most of that is happening on autopilot.

One client realized she hadn’t felt excited in months. After two weeks of using the TEA Practice, she noticed she was constantly pushing down frustration—not acknowledging it, not processing it. And once she made space to actually feel it? She started noticing tiny moments of joy: drinking tea without multitasking, watching her dog nap in the sun, feeling a glimpse of ease in a chaotic week.

Later in the work, we go deeper—looking at the hidden beliefs that make joy feel unsafe or unearned like “Joy is indulgent” or “I have to earn it.”

One client realized she’d learned early on that joy wasn’t safe. That being carefree could lead to criticism or rejection. As we worked together to shift that belief, something changed. She started coloring with her daughter on weeknights—something she used to rush through or feel guilty about. Now, it’s one of the most sacred parts of her week.

These phases don’t make joy happen by force.
They simply clear the space so joy can return—on its own, in quiet, often unexpected ways.

You don’t have to overhaul your life to make space for joy. Start small. Here are two practices you can try today: 

Let joy be small. Notice one beautiful or funny thing each day. A flower, a cup of coffee, your kid’s laugh. Let it land. One client texted me a photo of her tea mug and said, “This felt silly, but it made me feel something.” That’s the start.

Name what’s in the way. Ask: What emotion am I avoiding? Sometimes grief or resentment is taking up all the space joy needs.

Joy isn’t something you earn. It’s something you slowly, gently learn to allow again.

If joy feels out of reach, it doesn’t mean you’re ungrateful. It means your nervous system has been doing its job. But you don’t have to stay in survival mode.

You can start to feel again. Not by forcing happiness, but by creating safety and space. And if you want support with that, I offer a free 20-minute call to talk about what’s going on and what might help. You can book it through the link in the show notes. You don’t have to do this alone.

That’s it for this week. Be kind to yourself—especially if joy feels hard. It’s not gone. It’s just waiting for space. I’ll see you next time.