At the age of 28, I was in a hospital bed with a ruptured stomach ulcer.

Quietly bleeding internally, my biggest stress was not wondering if I’d live to see 30, but whether the hospital’s wifi was strong enough to join a Zoom call about dog food. 

As co-founder of a multi-million dollar communications agency, I was living my CEO dreams – flying the world working with brands like Red Bull, Spanx, and Abercrombie. 

I believed that being busy made me important. That if I just worked harder, said yes more often, and slept a little less, I’d earn my place at the table. 

In reality, the cult of productivity was killing me. 

All that changed when I started writing a book that would go on to be read by Jessica Alba, requested by Julia Roberts on the set of a Warner Bros film, and gifted to Sophie Turner by her personal trainer. 

Dua Lipa made it her book club pick. And a copy was even couriered to Bella Hadid‘s London hotel suite during her fragrance launch.

But I didn’t write ‘Smarter‘ for them. I wrote it for the version of me who believed that if she just got through one more week, one more campaign, one more inbox-zero, things would finally feel okay.

Smarter, not harder 

Somewhere along the line, ‘busy’ became a stand-in for self-worth. It wasn’t just a status update – it was a performance. 

So when people asked how I was, I’d say: ‘Busy.’ Like it was a badge of honor.

Then I learned the most revolutionary truth: You become more productive by focusing on output, not optics. 

The oneupmanship that exists within the cult of productivity has ironically made us less productive than ever. 

The reality is that it’s not more hours that will drive success. Not more meetings. Not more scrolling Slack at midnight. Just the right work.

That meant fewer check-ins and more check-outs. Fewer brainstorms, more boundaries. Fewer long-winded decks and more meaningful action. Performative work – the kind that looks impressive but does nothing – got cut. Ruthlessly.

The fish tank theory

I used to obsess over my environment. I had the candles. The plants. The mood lighting. I thought if I just made my apartment perfect, my brain would follow.

But it didn’t.

Because you can have the most perfectly curated fish tank in the world – beautiful coral, polished pebbles, even the right light settings. But if you don’t feed the fish, if you don’t clean the tank and if you don’t pay the electricity bill, the fish will always die.

That’s what productivity myths do. They give you tools, but no hygiene. They tell you to optimize without asking what you’re actually aiming for. It’s surface-level wellness wrapped around untreated exhaustion.

True productivity hygiene means cutting the mental clutter. It means replacing guilt with systems. It means boundaries, not burnout.

Track energy, not time

I no longer live by a planner. I live by a pulse. My pulse.

Some days I’m on fire. Other days, I need to cancel everything and go for a walk and a listen to a history podcast. 

And when I honor that rhythm – when I stop forcing and start flowing – I do better work. I work for the total sum, the result at the end. Not the incremental shame drenched second by second analysis. 

Some of the world’s most successful humans – Jack Dorsey, Richard Branson, Jennifer Aniston, Gwyneth Paltrow, Anna Wintour – swear that waking up early powers their productivity. Tim Cook, the man behind Apple, reportedly gets up at 3.45am.

I’m not in the 5am club. I’m not even in the 7am club. I’m proudly in the 8am club. And I’m thriving.

Sports provides helpful parallels. A medal-winning athlete doesn’t get a PB in every training session. They take rest days, rehabilitate, take time off when they get the twisties, see a physio, follow a diet, go to bed early (most of the time), lean on their team when they need it, jog, vary their workouts, follow a plan. 

Those undulations are realistic in their world, so why would working 10-hour days at a sprint set you up for success?

Beyoncé put it best in an interview last year: ‘Working smarter, not harder, made me more successful.’

If that’s good enough for her, it’s good enough for me.

Become your own cheerleader

One of the most life-changing things I’ve done? Learning how to back myself. Loudly. Unapologetically. Consistently.

That means being your own cheerleader – especially when no one else is clapping.

I started celebrating my own wins. I stopped downplaying my ambition in rooms that weren’t ready for it. I started talking to myself like I was someone worth rooting for.

It’s not cringe. It’s critical. Especially as a woman. Especially in a world that rewards your silence and your burnout. That inner voice? It matters. Start making it louder.

Switch the ‘to-do’ list for a ‘to-don’t’ list

For years, my identity was wrapped up in the length of my to-do list. The more bullet points I squeezed onto a page, the more legitimate I felt. But the truth? Half the items were vanity tasks – busywork dressed up as productivity.

The breakthrough came when I flipped the script. I started writing a ‘to-don’t’ list. On it went: Don’t check Slack after 8pm. Don’t say yes to meetings without an agenda. Don’t spend three hours ‘researching’ when I already know the answer.

The effect was instant. By deciding what not to do, I freed up my brain for the work that mattered. The power wasn’t in adding more tasks – it was in ruthlessly subtracting the ones that drained me. 

Productivity isn’t about cramming your life with obligations. It’s about curating it with intention.

Never answer ‘how are you?’ with ‘busy’

Ask most people how they are and the default reply is: ‘Busy.’ We say it like it’s shorthand for important, accomplished, in-demand. But here’s the reality: ‘Busy’ isn’t a feeling. It’s a smokescreen.

When I stopped answering that way, conversations changed. Instead of performing my worth, I connected on a human level. I could admit I was excited, or tired, or hopeful, or overwhelmed. I could be real. And in being real, I opened the door for others to do the same.

‘Busy’ is the most boring answer in the book. It tells people nothing about you except that you’re drowning. Dropping it isn’t weakness – it’s strength. Because when you stop being defined by busyness, you start being defined by substance.

This is what productivity looks like now

These days, my life is calmer. My work is sharper. My mind is quieter. And I am more productive than I have ever been – not because I’m doing more of the volume, but because I’m doing the things that actually matter.

If you’re tired, it’s not because you’re weak.

If you’re overwhelmed, it’s not because you’re lazy.

You’re just done being lied to.

The cult of productivity told us to run faster. I’m here to say: maybe you were never meant to run. Maybe you were meant to walk slowly, boldly, and with purpose – toward something better. 

Smarter: 10 Lessons for a Productive and Less-Stressed Life by Emily Austen is published by Little Brown Spark, September 2