Breaking the Workaholic Cycle: How an Off-the-Grid Retreat Helped Me Build a Business That Runs Without Me

Paris has always had that allure. For me, France is the dream. Summers in Provence wandering through lavender fields and local markets, tasting rosé at family-run wineries, and savoring the Mediterranean pace of life. Weekends in Bordeaux or Champagne, shopping in Paris, afternoons at a café by the water in Saint Tropez.

Sign me up for all of it. Someday, I may even host my Unplugged retreats there.

But France wasn't what cracked me open.

The turning point came somewhere very different...on dusty trails in the Malibu foothills, during a week-long unplugged retreat with no phone, no laptop, no connection to the outside world.

I used to call it "7 days in jail." The irony? I was already in a prison of my own making.

The Workaholic Legacy I Inherited

I grew up believing that being an entrepreneur meant working hard, all the time. My father, grandmother, and uncles were business owners; my biggest role models were workaholics. My dad and grandmother passed away without ever enjoying the fruits of their labor.

I carried so many regrets for my dad. By the time he passed, I was already an entrepreneur myself, and I knew I didn't want to repeat his story.

Still, I fell into the same pattern.

When I was leading a pharma account earlier in my career, the team before me hadn't been successful and the client was almost lost. I stepped in to 'save the day,' but that meant giving them complete access to me 24/7. The wrong lesson I learned was that being indispensable meant being always available. Or so I thought.

That habit followed me into entrepreneurship. Busy became my identity. Being needed made me feel worthy and valuable. But the truth? That 'hard working' ethic creates an unsustainable workaholic cycle.

The Decision to Step Away

A rugged trail in the Malibu foothills, symbolizing my first off-the-grid retreat and the new path that helped me break the workaholic cycle.

When I signed up for my first off-the-grid retreat in Malibu, I told myself it was a boot camp, not a vacation. I joked about it being "7 days in jail." I was apprehensive, but something in me knew I needed it.

The retreat’s welcome letter put it plainly:

You have made a choice to 'Unplug' and we want you to get the most out of it. The less outside communication you have, the more impactful it is. The week is going to be challenging, rewarding, and most of all fun.

Those words stuck with me. They were both an invitation and a challenge. And they turned out to be true in every way.

I gave the landline emergency number to one member of my team and said: "Please don't call."

No laptop. No inbox. No phone.

And for the first time in my career, I truly stepped away.

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The Silence That Stung (and Then Freed Me)

The first few days, the silence stung. No calls, no emergencies, no one checking in.

Didn’t anyone need me?

Then I realized the truth: I desperately needed this break. The off-the-grid structure gave me permission to set a boundary I hadn't known how to set for myself.

And people honored it. My team, my clients, my vendors, even my family.

They respected the boundary because I made it non-negotiable.

That's when it hit me: I'd built a well-oiled machine. The right people in the right seats. The right systems in place. Our clients were being served.

Learning to unplug from business showed me the business could run by itself. It didn’t just survive. It thrived without me.

Discovering What I'd Been Missing

That week changed me in ways I couldn't have predicted.

• I laughed and connected with strangers (who became fast friends).

• I found joy in fireside chats over tea (instead of pouring another glass of wine to wind down).

• I connected with my dad during uphill-both-ways hikes (finally understanding his old joke).

• I learned what my body was capable of when properly nourished--and felt energized and more creative than I had in years!

I didn't look at my phone the same way again.

I didn't crave the inbox dopamine hits.

I discovered that when I put my health, energy, and clarity first, I could be the visionary leader my business needed.

The Hardest Part

Coming back wasn’t easy. My team noticed the shift, they’d tease me: “When’s your next retreat?” Maybe they liked me calmer. Maybe they liked their freedom when I was gone. (Probably both.)

But the hardest part wasn’t business, it was personal.

That retreat gave me the clarity to see what I truly wanted in every area of my life. I realized I didn’t want toxic relationships anywhere—not with clients, not with my team, and definitely not in my personal world.

I wanted a life that felt light. Drama-free—no more constant stress, chaos, or walking on eggshells. I craved calm, intentional choices, and relationships that poured into me instead of draining me.

That clarity was a gift, and it changed everything.

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Making It Sustainable

I knew this couldn’t be a one-and-done experience for me. So, I restructured my business to make quarterly retreats possible.

We updated processes. Documented systems. Automated what we could. Tested. Enhanced. We made continuous improvement the norm, not the exception.

I let go and let my team do what they did best. They had clear decision-making authority; with a pre-set budget they could spend without additional approval. That structure gave them the freedom to find creative solutions. And the surprising part? They rarely needed the full budget.

The key: clear values + authority + boundaries. Our team didn’t just follow procedures — they lived our mission under pressure. That’s how you know a system is sustainable.

And equally important: every role had a backup. No single person was the only one who knew how to do something. Because life happens. And if your systems only work when one specific person shows up, they aren’t really systems — they’re bottlenecks.

That’s what made the difference. Our machine kept running — seamlessly.

The result? More time for me. More ownership and autonomy for my team. And ironically, more business and profits too.

Which meant I could be on a trail in Malibu, weeding in my garden, or someday sipping wine in Provence (or, in reality, Sonoma) — without everything grinding to a halt.

A winding dirt trail in the Malibu hills leading toward the Pacific Ocean, symbolizing the freedom and clarity gained by building a business that runs without you.

Why I Create These Life-First Experiences Today

Here’s what I’ve learned: when you’re an employee, the boss who has your back might “ground” you, like mine once did when I was headed toward burnout.

But when you’re the business owner? No one is watching out for you. No one will see the signs for you. No one has your back — unless you hire a coach or have a mentor.

That’s why I create retreats and coaching programs now: to be that person. That guide. That mentor. To give entrepreneurs the space, permission, and community to step away. To help them design businesses that support the life they actually want — not the one they think they should want, or the one they’ve been told to want.

Not everyone needs an endurance boot camp. But everyone needs time to pause. Because every meaningful change and next-level growth in my life has started when I stopped — when I unplugged long enough to see clearly.

Your Turn

What would happen if you truly stepped away from your business for a week?

Better yet — what if it was designed to run without you for a month?

Or imagine spending your summer in Provence?

👉 Take the Time Freedom Quiz to discover where you are on the path to building a business that runs without you. In just a few minutes, you’ll uncover your archetype—and get your first step toward creating a life-first business with more clarity, space, and freedom