When Showing Up Starts to Take a Toll

For anyone who’s ever felt worn down by visibility, performance, and the pressure to stay 'seen'.

The last few months have had me questioning the idea of ‘comfort zones’ – why we feel compelled to stay in them, and perhaps more interestingly, why we sometimes rally against them with unnecessary force.

This feels especially relevant right now – in today’s visibility-driven culture, where personal branding often demands that we step outside our comfort zones to be ‘seen’. But in doing so, we sometimes push too far – unwittingly putting ourselves in harm’s way.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, this deeper dive comes partly off the back of my earlier Leaving Substack post – a personal reflection of my own visibility demons, which seemed to strike a chord. But in reality, only scratched the surface of something much bigger.

Just in my small corner of the world, the visibility conundrum takes up head space for friends, colleagues, and several clients – particularly those who’ve taken the brave step to pivot careers or launch something new later in life.

In fact, the sheer scale of the personal branding movement has given rise to entire industries designed to help us be seen, take up more space, and stay relevant – often making us question whether it’s something we genuinely want or simply feel we should be doing.

In the professional world, we’re told that if we want to leave the safety of a steady contract or salaried role, we must build a personal brand before we leap – so we can ‘hit the ground running’.

We’re told that if we change careers, we need to stand out from the competition – offering prospective clients a glimpse into what makes us unique, engaging, and – the crux of it all – worth investing in.

We’re told that with industries collapsing and AI on the rise, work as we know it is on its way out. Which means we must have a USP – or be left behind.

Photo by Marina Vitale on Unsplash

But I want to make the case for a different approach. Because sometimes, the tools we have simply aren’t enough to show up visibly without it costing us something. And I say that as someone who fully supports mindfulness, identity work, and refining how we communicate – but only when it serves the right purpose. And that purpose becomes detrimental when it’s driven solely by the pressure to stay relevant or sell our products or services.

Because when we show up to emphasise our expertise, highlight our experience, or share our (sometimes vulnerable) personal stories for the sake of relevancy or sales, it can start to feel hollow and exhausting – putting strain on our nervous systems, draining our energy, and making it harder to think clearly.

And so, for the sensitive types, the calm-seekers, and the ones who don’t crave the spotlight – or for those who have simply lost their way in the visibility game – I want to offer a different perspective.

Maybe this is for you?

You may not be the one at the front of the room collecting applause, but I would bet you offer something just as valuable: steady energy in spaces where urgency dominates, and a calm presence where noise often drowns out meaning. You quite possibly bring thoughtfulness to rooms that move too fast, and a kind of quiet resilience that holds things together.

And while those traits may not always pay the bills – they can play their part.

This isn’t about hanging up your coat and saying goodbye to professional ambition, or admitting defeat in the name of personal exposure. It’s about recognising that our nervous systems aren’t all wired the same way – and appreciating that. Because until we understand how our minds and bodies respond to being visible in new spaces (the ‘why’ is a bonus), we may end up living in a way that isn’t right for us – or worse, harming ourselves.

Photo by Robinson Recalde on Unsplash

It’s common knowledge that we react primitively to perceived threat, in what’s known as the fight, flight, or freeze response. But what fewer people realise is that each of us tends to have a dominant setting. Fighters might feel rage, lash out, lose their cool. Flighters tend to retreat – avoiding conflict, disengaging, going silent. Freezers shut down altogether. They can’t run, but they can’t act either. Their minds go blank. Words disappear. Their working memory shuts down.

These are survival responses, deeply embedded in the nervous system. And while neuroplasticity (the brain’s ability to rewire) means we can shift these patterns over time, doing so takes sustained effort. And that effort comes with a cost.

It’s easy to admire those in our respective industries (or even friends following the zeitgeist or political movement of the day with articulate eloquence and conviction) who seem to thrive in high-visibility environments – presenting to boardrooms, commanding a stage, captivating audiences, fighting their fight. But we rarely know the full context behind that ease. We don’t see their early influences, how much space they were encouraged to take up in childhood, whether their voice was nurtured or suppressed, what cultural norms they grew up within – or how their brain is wired to process things like attention, communication, or sensory input.

Some may experience the world through a neurodivergent lens, while others may have had support or conditioning we’ll never be privy to. Comparison, then, becomes not just unhelpful, but fundamentally flawed.

Photo by Claudio Schwarz on Unsplash

From what I’ve observed, through research, conversations, and client work – those with a fight response can sometimes have a slight edge when it comes to visibility. Yes, they feel things deeply, but when that energy is channelled well, their urgency, passion, and vocal presence often work in their favour. They can use the sense of threat as fuel. Of course, it’s not always an advantage – fighters can also be impulsive, reactive, or push too hard without thinking things through, which brings its own challenges. For flighters and freezers though, the path tends to be different – and often harder – especially when visibility feels like the very thing they’re wired to avoid.

And so, we must go back to the bigger question: At what cost?

When we regularly override a strong stress response – like a deep fear of public speaking or being ‘seen’ – without understanding our body’s signals, we’re placing ourselves under significant physiological strain. The body’s threat system is not designed to be activated and ignored on repeat. Over time, elevated cortisol and adrenaline levels, caused by repeated stress, create what’s known as allostatic load: the cumulative toll of chronic pressure on the body.

In survival mode, the parts of the brain responsible for learning and reflection get cast aside – and both body and mind bear the brunt of that prolonged stress, often in the form of anxiety, insomnia, burnout, hormonal imbalances, digestive issues, and lack of focus.

So how do we know if the exposure path we’re on is manageable?

One clue is to notice whether your fear relaxes over time. If the dread returns at full force every time you’re in a space to be viewed or judged, your body probably hasn’t categorised the experience as safe. Another sign is noticing how long it takes to recover. Are you depleted for days, or do you bounce back with insight and excitement? And lastly, is your wellbeing slowly suffering? Are you sleeping well, staying safe, feeling healthy?

There’s no one-size-fits-all answer when it comes to visibility. What energises one person might leave someone else totally wiped out. The important thing isn’t to force yourself to get better at it, but to start noticing how it actually feels in your body and in your mind — so you know when to continue, and when to pull back and recover.

Try asking yourself:

• Before putting myself in wider bigger spaces, do I feel focused and steady, or tense and scattered?

• After being visible, do I feel okay? A bit wired? Or completely drained?

• Do I recover fairly quickly, or does it take days to feel like myself again?

Sometimes we ignore these physiological responses as ‘just nerves’, or assume we’ll eventually get used to it – but if your body feels like it’s on edge every time you show up, it’s not resistance you need to push through, it’s information worth listening to.

That doesn’t mean visibility is simply not for you. It just means you might need to approach it more gently, with a bit more awareness of how to look after yourself before, during, and after. That way, it becomes more sustainable — and ultimately, more effective in the long run.

Something to Try

After anything that takes you out of your comfort zone – posting something personal, speaking up in a group, showing up on camera – build in some kind of reset. It doesn’t need to be elaborate. Just something that helps stabalise your mind and come back to yourself.

That might be:

• A walk outside (without your phone)

• Music that matches your mood or lifts it

• A conversation with someone who calms you

• Doing something with your hands – cooking, tidying, folding

• Sitting still for a few minutes, with no pressure to ‘do’ or fix anything

Whatever helps your shoulders drop, your mind settle, and the spikiness of the day feel less sharp – let that become part of your routine. Not as a reward, but as a way to stay steady over time and to let your nervous system know that the threat won’t eat you whole.

Remember, just because you occasionally enter the lion’s den doesn’t mean you can’t earn its trust – and if the conditions are right, you might just learn to live side by side in peace.

Anna x

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www.annaholbrookcoaching.co.uk