Decompress From Your Workday, Change Everything at Home

For a long time, I didn’t think much about how I ended my workday. Not because it wasn’t important, but because it happened on its own.

Up until 2021, I had about a 30-minute drive between my office and my home. I didn’t have access to email or messages during that time, and I wasn’t trying to be productive. My options were simple. I could call someone, listen to something, or just sit and think.

Sometimes I would call my mom or catch up with a friend. Other times, I would listen to a podcast or book that had nothing to do with work. Something light. Something that let my brain shift gears. Sometimes I would just drive in silence and let the day settle.

By the time I pulled into the driveway, work felt like it had already been put down. I wasn’t carrying conversations or tasks with me. I had, without realizing it, created space between my workday and my evening. I didn’t think of it as a strategy at the time. It was just part of my routine.

It wasn’t until that routine disappeared that I realized how much it had been doing for me.

When I transitioned to working from home, that buffer went away almost overnight. My commute became a short walk down the hallway. At the same time, my workdays started to stretch. I would start earlier and end later because there wasn’t a clear stopping point anymore. It all blended together.

By the time I wrapped up for the day, my mind felt full, and my energy was low. And instead of having time to reset, I would walk straight out of my office and immediately step into everything that was waiting for me at home. Dinner needed to happen. The kids needed help with homework or rides to activities. There were conversations to be had, things to organize, and responsibilities to pick up. I was going from one set of demands directly into another without any space in between, and I could feel it.

I was more impatient than I wanted to be. I was tired in a way that didn’t match how I had spent my day. Even though I had been sitting most of the day, I felt physically drained. It was harder to stay present and easier to get pulled back into work.

If a message came through, it didn’t feel like a big deal to step back into my office for a minute. But those minutes added up. One quick check turned into another, and before I knew it, I was mentally right back where I had been all day.

My body was home, but my attention wasn’t. What made it harder was realizing that it wasn’t just something I felt internally. My kids could see it. They could tell when I was distracted. They could feel when I wasn’t fully with them. My husband, always so supportive and gracious, said nothing, but I could feel the frustration.

That’s when it really hit me. They weren’t getting the best of me. They were getting whatever I had left. I knew I didn’t want that to become normal. Not for them, and not for me.

As much as I care about the work I do, I don’t believe we are meant to give everything we have to one part of our lives and leave the rest running on whatever remains. The people we come home to matter just as much as the work we are doing during the day. So I had to become more intentional about how I ended my workday.

The first thing I changed was how I wrapped things up. Instead of working right up until the moment I stepped away, I started building in time to close out the day. That meant responding to the things that truly couldn’t wait, finishing what I had committed to, and giving myself a chance to feel like there was some level of completion before I walked away.

From there, I added something that hadn’t existed before. I gave myself time to decompress. Not time to be productive. Not time to get ahead. Just time to step away. Some days that looks like sitting in a chair in my office and doing nothing for a few minutes. Other days it’s listening to something that has nothing to do with work, or calling someone I haven’t talked to in a while. Sometimes it’s something simple and light that lets my brain slow down a bit. 

The specific activity isn’t the point. The space is. At the end of that time, I shut everything down. Lights off, door closed, and a quiet commitment to myself that I’m not going back in. I don’t do it perfectly every day, but when I do, I can feel the difference. I have more energy. I’m more patient. I’m actually present for what’s in front of me instead of still carrying what’s behind me.

There are also small decisions that have made a bigger difference than I expected.

One of those was turning off email notifications on my phone. No alerts, no red numbers, nothing pulling my attention unless I choose to look. It removed that constant sense that something might be waiting for me and gave me back a little more control over where my attention goes.

Creating that space doesn’t have to be complicated, but it does need to be intentional. None of this is about doing it perfectly. It’s about recognizing that how you leave your workday shapes how you show up for everything that comes after it. The people waiting for you at the end of the day deserve more than whatever happens to be left over. My prayer for you is that you choose one thing from this article, or find something that works for you, and let it restore your mind as you come home to the people and activities you love. 

With love in leadership,