Capable but Exhausted: The Hidden Burnout of Confusing Capability with Capacity

23 Oct

Last week, I was on holiday.

A proper, out-of-office, “leave-me-alone-unless-there-has-been-a-death” kind of break.

Or at least, that’s what I thought I had communicated.

I’ve been supporting an artist with their social media. It’s a role I took on to help out. But like many things we say yes to from a generous place, it slowly began asking for more time, more energy, more of me than I had anticipated.

So, before I left, I was proactive. We had a Zoom call where I walked through everything I would do before I left. I made it clear that I wouldn’t be working on holiday. I followed up with a clear email outlining what was in place and let them know I’d pick up anything else when I returned. They responded with agreement, even saying they wouldn’t bother me unless something urgent came up.

Great. Boundaries set. Peace is secured.

Until Friday.

I was just about to hop on the crosstrainer for some much-needed movement and “me time,” when my phone lit up with a string of WhatsApp messages. I wanted to ignore it, yet I found myself reading the messages. The artist was asking questions about the video quality of a YouTube upload and requesting some minor tweaks to a post that had already gone live.

I paused.

This definitely wasn’t urgent.

Despite knowing I had set a clear boundary, I responded.

Not because I wanted to.

Not because it was urgent.

But because I could.

Because I was capable. I thought, “let me get this sorted”. Because problem-solving comes easily to me.

Wrong. As I engaged, the tone on the other end became more frustrated. The messages more curt. And I could feel the irritation rising in me too. Not just at the interruption, but at myself for stepping into the conversation at all.

So much for my joyful cardio session looking out at the sea. Instead, I found myself trying to stay calm and intermittently muttering to myself.

I finished my workout and went back to the room where I vented to my partner (which somehow made me feel even more annoyed). In my now highly energetic state (one way to describe it), I did the thing I really didn’t want to do…opened my laptop.

I dug into the files, checked the quality, and confirmed what I suspected: the issue wasn’t mine. The original video files weren’t 4K, and that was something the editor or the artist who approved the file should’ve caught.

I let the artist know.

And then… silence.

No acknowledgement. No apology.
Just… nothing.

I felt a flicker of validation (smug if you will). But mostly, I was frustrated. Not just with them. But with myself.

Because I’d made the mistake I see so many of us make…I confused capability with capacity.

I wish I had some wise words here, but having spoke to a friend about it, I wouldn’t have been able to ignore the initial message until Monday. So I give myself grace that how I responded is indicative of where I’m at in my people-pleaser healing journey. There is a part of me that wants better for me, but there is another part that simply didn’t feel safe with that alternative.

We can only heal as fast as our slowest part.

The Burnout We Don’t Talk About

We don’t talk enough about the subtle, sneaky moments where we override our own limits. Not because we’re forced to, but because we’re good at something.

Because we can.

Because people expect it.

Because we don’t want to seem rude, or unhelpful, or selfish.

I’d read about this distinction before In Tamu Thomas’ Women Who Work Too Much. But this experience was the moment it truly landed.

Thomas draws a sharp and necessary line between capability and capacity.

Capability is what you know how to do. It’s your competence.
Capacity is what you have the energy, space, and internal resources to actually hold in a given moment.

And when we ignore that difference?

We pay for it with our energy, our peace, nervous system dysregulation and our self-trust.

Capability Is a Skill. Capacity Is a Resource.

I was capable of handling those messages. I was capable of solving the issue.

But I didn’t have the capacity to deal with them in that moment — not without compromising the rest I was trying to give myself.

And honestly, that’s what boundaries are there to protect, capacity.

We set boundaries not because we’re incapable…but because we know that our energy is finite, and we want to use it wisely.

How to Know You’re Operating From Capability, Not Capacity

You might be acting from capability (not capacity) if you:

Say yes before checking in with how you actually feel (Thomas talks about honing in on what your body’s “yes” and “no” feels like)
Notice yourself getting irritable or resentful after helping
Feel guilty for resting when others still need you
Keep functioning even when your body feels tense or tired
Equate being useful with being worthy

Quick Reflection:

Ask yourself: Where am I mistaking being capable for being available?

Why We Confuse Capability With Capacity

Many of us, especially women, eldest daughters, and those raised in high-responsibility homes, learned early that being capable earns us love and safety.

That conditioning not only makes helpful, it can also make us compulsive caretakers. The ones who take responsibility for everything and everyone.

When praise becomes proof of our worth, slowing down feels like failure. And in a world that rewards overfunctioning, we’ve internalised the message that exhaustion is a badge of honour.

Honestly, it suuuuucks for us. But we can unlearn this. It just takes time.

How to Rebuild Your Capacity

Capacity isn’t built by doing more. It’s built by doing less, with intention.

Try starting small:

Pause before saying yes — check in with your body.
Ground before replying — even three slow exhales can reset your system.
Notice where your energy feels full vs. depleted.
Protect your rest like a boundary.

When you tend to your capacity, you start to trust yourself again. Not just as someone who can do everything and will take on anything, but as someone who chooses what truly matters.

Learning to Pause Before You Pour

I’m still learning this.
Still unlearning the “good girl” conditioning.
Still dismantling the eldest daughter, get-it-done-now, don’t-let-anyone-down energy.

But every time I override my own boundary “just this once,” I reinforce the idea that my needs are negotiable. And they’re not.

Neither are yours.

You don’t have to earn rest by burning out.
You don’t have to prove your worth by doing it all.
And you don’t owe anyone your peace just because you’re capable of fixing something.

Journal Prompt

Where am I still trying to prove I’m capable — and what would it look like to honour my true capacity instead?

The Freedom That Comes With Letting Go

That experience became a turning point.

A few days after I returned, I decided to step away from the project entirely.

It wasn’t easy. I enjoyed the work. I was good at it. And I genuinely wanted to help. But the truth be told, I didn’t have the capacity for it anymore. My energy needed to go toward the things that are truly aligned for me right now: writing more blogs and the workshops I’m building to make working with me more affordable.

And as soon as I let it go, I felt a massive sense of relief.

A kind of lightness returned. Like something opened up in me again.

And of course…

The world didn’t fall apart. The artist was absolutely fine. Someone else stepped in to help with their social media.

And that reminded me of something I want to remind you of, too:

You may be capable but you’re not the only one who is. You’re allowed to release what doesn’t fit (even when you’re good at it).

I’d also argue that your best work doesn’t come from stretching yourself beyond your limits.

Healing Isn’t Linear

Here’s another truth I’m sitting with…

Even though I slipped into an old pattern, that doesn’t mean I haven’t grown.

In fact, the fact that I noticed it, that I felt it, that I reflected and adjusted shows growth.

On any healing journey, there will be moments where old habits resurface. Moments where we override our needs, abandon our boundaries, or fall into roles we thought we’d overcome.

And sometimes, we might find ourselves in situations that press on old wounds. Dynamics that make it harder to act differently, even when we know better.

We all have those edges. Certain personality types, roles, or relational dynamics we’re more likely to fawn around, albeit unconsciously.

Whatever the case, what matters most is that we’re aware of it.

And remember, self-compassion is key in any healing journey (link to blog). Not as a way to excuse the pattern, but to soften the shame that keeps it alive.

So Let Me Ask You...

Where in your life are you acting out of capability, while ignoring your capacity?

Where are you pouring from a cup that’s already low, just because you can?

And what would shift if you gave yourself full permission to say:

“I can, but I won’t because I don’t have the space right now.”

You don’t have to be the one who holds it all. You don’t have to keep proving yourself just because you’re good at something. And you don’t have to get it right every time to be growing in the right direction.

Let this be your reminder…

To protect your capacity.

To celebrate how far you’ve come.

And to hold compassion for the times you fall back into old patterns…and still choose to return to yourself.