Five years. It sounds like a long time, doesn’t it? And yet, for many of us, the early days of the pandemic still feel startlingly close. Maybe it’s a smell, a song, a moment of stillness that transports you back. Perhaps it’s the memory of the fear that gripped you, the uncertainty that shaped every decision. Or maybe—if you dare to admit it—you remember some of it with a kind of nostalgia, recalling small moments of unexpected joy and slowness that feel so distant from the chaos of today.
Wherever you find yourself in your processing of those years, I want to remind you: it is okay. It is okay if you still feel waves of grief, fear, or loss. It is okay if you are still untangling what those years meant for you. And it is okay if, in some ways, you found a strange kind of solace in those unprecedented times.
My Pandemic Beginning: A Personal Reflection
For me, the pandemic started with life-altering news. The weekend we went into lockdown, I found out I was pregnant. It was a high-risk pregnancy, and the steroids I was on made me vulnerable to illness. There I was, simultaneously overjoyed and terrified, knowing I would have to navigate pregnancy in a world that had suddenly become unrecognisable. On top of that, I had severe morning sickness, was homeschooling my five-year-old, and was leading a library service of 80 staff serving over 20,000 users—all while the world shut down around us.
It was relentless. The responsibility was crushing. Every day, I made decisions that felt impossibly high-stakes, both personally and professionally. I was in survival mode, doing my best to keep everything together when it felt like everything was coming apart.
The Lingering Echoes of Those Days
Even now, five years later, I sometimes find myself suddenly back there. The weight of it all still sits in my bones. And I know I’m not alone. I have spoken with so many people who still feel caught between the past and the present, trying to make sense of what happened.
Some people are struggling with post-pandemic burnout, realising only now how much they gave and lost during those years. Others are facing the emotional fallout—grief for loved ones lost, anger at the systems that failed us, guilt for moments they couldn’t fully be present for. And then there are those who, in a world that has rushed to ‘get back to normal,’ find themselves missing something about that time—the simplicity, the slowness, the way priorities suddenly became so clear.
Honouring the Loss
For many, the pandemic was not just a period of change but a time of profound loss. Many lost loved ones, unable to be by their side in their final moments, left to grieve in isolation. The pain of those losses still lingers, and for those who mourn, healing remains an ongoing journey. If you are still processing the loss of someone dear to you, please know that your grief is valid. The world may have moved on, but your heart is allowed to take the time it needs.
The Link Between Pandemic Trauma and Burnout
One of the aspects we don’t talk about enough is how the stress and trauma of the pandemic have directly contributed to burnout. Many people spent those years in survival mode—caring for others, making impossible decisions, and pushing through uncertainty. There was no time to process, to rest, or to recover. And now, five years on, that exhaustion is catching up with us.
Burnout isn’t just about work; it’s about prolonged emotional and mental depletion. If you’ve been feeling detached, exhausted, or struggling to find motivation, you’re not alone. The pandemic pushed so many of us beyond our limits, and recovery takes time.
If you are still feeling the weight of those years, acknowledge it. Your body and mind are trying to heal from an extended period of stress, and that healing requires rest, self-compassion, and patience. You don’t have to keep pushing through. You are allowed to pause.
Processing Takes Time
We don’t talk enough about how long processing takes. Trauma, in all its forms, has no deadline. Your body and mind will work through things in their own time, often in waves. Some days, you might feel completely fine. Other days, a simple conversation or a news article might send you spiralling back.
And that’s normal. That’s human.
One of the great myths of resilience is that we should ‘bounce back’ quickly. But real resilience isn’t about speed—it’s about integration. It’s about taking the time to honour what you’ve been through, acknowledging how it shaped you, and allowing yourself the space to feel whatever arises.
What Do You Need Now?
So, five years on, what do you need?
Maybe you need space to grieve the losses, big or small. Maybe you need permission to feel relief that that season is behind you. Maybe you need to reconnect with a version of yourself that felt clearer on what truly mattered. Maybe you need to acknowledge just how strong you were—and still are. Maybe you need deep rest to recover from the burnout you didn’t even realise you were carrying.
Whatever it is, I encourage you to give yourself that space. Talk about it, write about it, sit with it. Don’t force yourself to move on just because the world says you should. Healing isn’t linear, and there’s no set timeline for making sense of something so enormous.
A Collective Experience, A Personal Journey
Though we all lived through the same pandemic, we did not all live through the same experience. Some of us emerged shattered, some changed, some still unsure of what it all meant. But what we share is the need to be gentle with ourselves as we continue to process it all.
So, five years on, I ask you: how are you feeling? And can you offer yourself the kindness to feel exactly that—without judgement, without rushing to ‘move on’? The pandemic changed us all. But in honouring that change, we give ourselves the best chance to move forward with intention, with care, and with a deep respect for everything we endured.
This exactly. "One of the aspects we don’t talk about enough is how the stress and trauma of the pandemic have directly contributed to burnout. Many people spent those years in survival mode—caring for others, making impossible decisions, and pushing through uncertainty. There was no time to process, to rest, or to recover. And now, five years on, that exhaustion is catching up with us."