“How do I build relationships when I barely have time to breathe at work?”
I (Bec) am liking the look of next week. My calendar looks beautifully intentional — coaching sessions, coffee catch-ups, time blocked out for the human parts of leadership. The parts I genuinely care about. But by Monday mid-morning, my whole calendar blows apart. My boss needs urgent analysis, someone else needs reports, one of my team needs extra one-on-one time to fix a problem. Three meetings have been rescheduled, and I’ve been added to another five because apparently my ‘input would be valuable’.
And just like that, every people-focused moment gets swallowed by someone else’s urgent task.
So how do we build relationships when it feels like there is barely enough time to breathe at work? I don’t have the answer yet. I’m experimenting. I’ve tried keeping Fridays as “human days”, but by the time Friday arrives I’m often so drained that I’m not giving my best self to the people who deserve it. I’ve tried blocking the hour after lunch for team catch-ups, but that usually rolls straight into back-to-back meetings, leaving me no time to reflect, take notes, or follow through properly. Thoughts get lost. Actions drag out. My energy gets split into too many pieces.
And then there’s the guilt — the guilt of wanting to be a present leader, a supportive manager, a connector, a coach…. The guilt of knowing your team deserves more time, more attention, more development, but your calendar is already bursting at the seams. The guilt of knowing your home life deserves the version of you that isn’t mentally triaging work fires.
Maybe I am putting too much pressure on myself to be a more engaged leader. But in a world racing toward self-service, offshoring, automation and AI, I don’t want the human parts of leadership to become optional. I want my team to feel seen. I want cross-functional relationships that exist outside of transactional requests. I want connection — not just efficiency. And I want to show up as a leader who cares, even when the system around me seems designed to squeeze that out.
But this is the real question, isn’t it? How do we keep the human side of leadership alive when everything around us is pushing for speed, savings, and productivity? How do we stay connected, present, and engaged when our days are consumed by urgent tasks, shifting priorities, as well as the load we carry at home? And what is the cost — especially for women — when the organisation’s priorities quietly erase the people who hold it together?
I don’t have the perfect solution. But I do know this: the conversation matters. Honesty matters. And maybe, just maybe, acknowledging the reality is the first step toward changing it.
That’s why this week I finally paused. I stepped back from work — both paid and unpaid — and took a mental break to rest and recharge. I told my boss and my partner exactly why: I can’t do it all, I’m exhausted, and I need a reset. I needed time with just me.
It’s a small step. It’s only a week. But it’s also a stand — a moment to make people notice, to spark conversations about workload, expectations, and what “reasonable” actually looks like. Because if we want to be better leaders, sometimes the most human thing we can do is stop, even briefly, and reclaim our capacity.
And stepping back has made me realise something important: if I want to rebuild the human parts of my leadership, I need to rethink the foundations that shape how I work and how I live. I’m starting to explore what a shift in perspective might look like, whether my values need more flexibility, whether my boundaries need tightening, or whether some expectations — mine or others’ — need to be recalibrated. I’m asking myself what genuinely fills my cup, what I can compromise on without losing myself, and which relationships I can invest in sustainably rather than out of obligation. Maybe the answer is creating more space, maybe it’s redefining what ‘enough’ looks like, or maybe it’s choosing a different path entirely. I don’t know yet. But these are the questions I’m finally giving myself permission to sit with.
I (Caro) feel Bec’s pain. My initial response to the pressure I felt was to work harder, faster and longer, because I didn’t want what I believed were the important aspects of the job like relationships to suffer. Then I experienced burnout.
I’m grateful now for that experience because it helped me to redefine what ‘enough’ looks like. I now aim for ‘good enough’ which is all about doing what is fitting or suitable for the situation. I think about questions like: What is my role here? What does the task require? What does love require? What does the season allow? What are my limits? When are further efforts no longer proportionate? Sometimes it will mean doing something well, and sometimes it will mean doing what I can.
As a follower of Jesus, this is what has helped with the perspective shift: “He [God] saved us because of his mercy, and not because of any good things we have done.” (Titus 3:5). My relationship with God isn’t based on how well I perform - in fact that wasn’t even on the table. That gives me a beautiful freedom when it comes to living in a world that feels so performance-based.
Discussion questions:
- Do you ever feel like the human connection in your work gets lost under the weight of urgent tasks and constant demands? What do you do to try and shift that feeling / balance?
- How do you personally balance the desire to show up as an engaged leader or team member with the reality of limited time, limited energy, as well as the mental load you carry outside of work?
- Which relationships at work do you intentionally invest in, and how do you decide where your limited energy is best spent?
- Have you redefined what ‘enough’ looks like for yourself?
