The Fears That Strike When Your Partner Takes a Sabbatical... Eeek!

 My husband, Joseph, is on sabbatical right now, which means he is, of course, officially "living the family brand". But what's surprising to me, considering I'm a Sabbatical Coach, is how 'not ok' with it I've been at times!

Joseph and Lyndall - Sunset boating on the river

He spent over a decade working in tech, mostly in product leadership, and more recently with AI. It was intense, demanding, and for a long time, deeply rewarding. He joined the company when it was still relatively small with a start-up-y vibe, and over the years, watched it grow into a huge corporate machine. After 13 years, he was ready for a break.

We had planned it for ages. We allocated money from our savings to support it. He had clear themes for the time: recharge after years of demanding work, get perspective on what kind of move he wants to make next, help our family transition from Amsterdam to Australia, shift from manager mode more into maker mode, play with AI tools, build things, explore frameworks, test ideas, and muck around with tech for the joy of it. He also wanted to set up healthy habits for our new life in Australia, so that when he does step into the next chapter of work, he’s doing it from a strong foundation.

In other words, he didn’t just wander dramatically into the unknown. He had themes. He had intentions. He had a loose plan.

Yep, annoyingly on-brand, really.

This is where I should probably admit that Joseph is not exactly your average sabbatical taker, because he is married to a sabbatical coach. So yes, he has had me, my sabbatical brain, and the entire BreakSpace philosophy lurking in the background of his break. Poor man never stood a chance of having an unstructured existential wander!

But seriously, his break was well-designed. Not over-planned. Not scheduled to within an inch of its life. Just thoughtfully shaped around what this chapter needed to give him. That’s what I believe breaks should be. Not accidental, not reactive, not something you fall into only when burnout has already made the decision for you. A good break should have purpose, space, rhythm, and enough structure to help you recover, reflect, experiment, and redesign without turning the whole thing into yet another performance project.

And Joseph’s break has that, which is lovely, evolved, healthy, and very much the kind of thing I help people plan every day.

But....

Where the Perils of Being a Sabbatical Wife Begin

Here’s the twist: Joseph is on sabbatical, but I am not. I am still working. Our family is temporarily living on one income. We planned for this, we saved for this, and we are fortunate to be able to do this, but not forever.

And that is where the perils of having a partner on sabbatical begin.

Because even though I believe in sabbaticals deeply, professionally, personally, philosophically, and possibly at this point cellularly, my nervous system still had some thoughts about it. It turns out being a sabbatical coach does not make you immune to being a sabbatical wife, which feels rude, honestly.

I coach people through this exact terrain all the time. I know the fears that come up. I know how convincing they sound. I know that fear often disguises itself as responsibility, practicality, and “just being realistic.” I also know that a well-designed break can be one of the most strategic things a person ever does for their career, wellbeing, family, and future. And yet, when it was my husband, our savings, our family, our move, and our future, I found myself having the same fears my clients often have.

Apparently, my coaching credentials did not stop my brain from occasionally yelling: “Lovely theory, but are we really doing this?”

Fear One: Should We Be Spending Our Savings on This?

This was the first one. We had allocated money from our savings to support Joseph’s break. We made the decision consciously. We knew what we were doing. And still, sometimes my brain would pipe up with questions like: shouldn’t this money be doing something else? Shouldn’t we be putting it into investments? Shouldn’t we be letting it compound away like we're taught is sensible adulting? Shouldn’t we be preserving it for some future version of our life where, presumably, we are more relaxed about spending money because a spreadsheet told us we were allowed to be?

This is where I have had to remind myself of something I believe very strongly: money is not only there to be hoarded. It is not only there to sit in accounts making us feel theoretically safe while we postpone the life we actually want to live. Money is there to support living a full life. And right now, spending money is what a full life requires.

Joseph has worked incredibly hard for years. He has carried stress in his body. He has given so much energy to work, leadership, responsibility, and other people’s priorities. This break is giving him the chance to do things he has not had the proper time or space to do for years: rest, recharge, get perspective, reconnect with what he wants, be present with our daughter, settle into our new home, build strength, follow curiosity, and return to work — when the time is right — clearer, healthier, and more excited.

That is not frivolous. That is not a waste. That is not a luxury purchase dressed up as personal growth. It is an investment in his future, his happiness, his health, his next chapter, and ultimately, in the resilience and happiness of our whole family. Because when one person in a family is not happy and healthy, it affects everyone. And when we all spend time to recover properly and redesign intentionally, that affects everyone too.

So the question is not only, “What else could this money be doing?” It is also, “What life is this money here to support?”

Fear Two: What If This Is a Terrible Time to Step Away From Tech?

Every time I hear about another company like the one Joseph just left, laying off more people, I get a little cortisol jolt in my gut. Tech feels unstable. Layoffs are everywhere. AI is changing things quickly. The whole industry has that slightly unhinged energy of a room where someone has just knocked over a very expensive vase and everyone is pretending it’s fine.

So yes, part of me has worried about the timing. Wouldn’t the sensible thing be to stay close to the market, stay visible, stay inside the system, keep moving, keep proving, keep performing relevance? That is what fear says. And to be clear, I am not dismissing the reality of the market. The market matters. Money matters. Employability matters. Timing matters.

But here is the thing I come back to: Joseph does not want to return to the exact same version of work he left. He joined his company when it was smaller, more agile, and more builder-y. Over 13 years, it became a massive corporate environment. And while that chapter gave him so much — growth, experience, leadership, money — it also took a lot. Work dominated the early part of his career. There was burnout. Too much pressure. I watched as the physical strain of stress took over his body. In the end, he was better at managing it. But it was still there.

Now, this chapter is different. We are in what I keep thinking of as the "golden family years". Our daughter is little. School plays matter. Random weekday moments matter. Being healthy matters. Having enough energy left at the end of the day to be a real person matters. Work still matters to him, ambition still matters, building things still matters, and making an impact still matters, but work cannot be the centre of everything anymore. Not in the same way.

So the real question is not “How fast can he get back into tech?” The real question is, “What kind of work actually fits the life we are building now?” That is work design, and work design has to shift as your life shifts. The version of work that suited your twenties or thirties may not be the version of work that suits the chapter where you want to be present for your family, protect your health, keep your stress levels in check, and still do work that feels meaningful.

For Joseph, that probably means something smaller, more agile, more energising. Flexible. Remote. Maybe startup-y. Maybe working with people who are using technology intelligently rather than just preserving old corporate structures, because that is how things have always been done. This is not anti-corporate, and it is not pretending that layoffs do not matter. It is saying that the “safe” option is not always as safe as it looks if it sends you straight back into the same stress patterns you are trying to change.

The risk is not stepping away. The risk is rushing back into the wrong version of work because the market scared you into abandoning your own version of what a good life looks like.

Fear Three: What If He Falls Behind With AI?

This one has been especially interesting because Joseph has worked in tech, product leadership, solving problems with AI, and AI is moving absurdly fast. So naturally, my brain has had a few moments of wondering what happens if he falls behind, loses relevance, or watches the industry move on while everyone else is in the trenches using the newest tools every day and he is off taking scenic bike rides and becoming emotionally regulated (honestly, how dare he!).

This fear was strongest in the early phase of his sabbatical, because in that phase, he was not focused on work. And that was the point. The early phase of his break was about transition and recharge. We had just moved our family from Amsterdam to Australia. We were setting up a new life, a new home, a new school rhythm, a new everything. It was a huge leap forward into the life we had been working toward for years, but it was not exactly restful.

So once we were properly settled and our daughter started school, Joseph finally had space to actually recharge. He walked, biked, read, explored, got to know the beautiful nature around us, let his nervous system come down, and let work get further away. And this is where the sabbatical coach in me had to keep reminding the sabbatical wife in me: this is the phase he is in. He is not supposed to be optimising his professional relevance right now. He is not supposed to be frantically proving that he still has value. He is supposed to be recovering enough that his energy, curiosity, and ambition can come back online naturally.

And now, in the mid-to-late phase of his sabbatical, that is exactly what I can see happening. He is shifting into maker mode. He is playing with AI tools, building things, solving problems, exploring ideas, connecting with people, and going to tech events and conferences so he can geek out about what is happening in the Australian ecosystem. But the energy is completely different. He is not doing it from panic. He is not scrambling from fear. He is not trying to prove he is still relevant. He is engaging because he is genuinely a tech-nerd, because it gives him energy, and because he loves this stuff.

There is a big difference between staying current because you are terrified and becoming more valuable because your curiosity has come back online. I can see now that he is not going to fall behind. If anything, I think he is becoming more valuable to the right people and the right kind of work. And the right people will see that.

Fear Doesn’t Mean the Sabbatical Is Wrong

Honestly, the fears coming up for me took me by surprise. But having fears doesn't mean the sabbatical is a mistake. They mean this is real. It is different when the break belongs to your household. It is different when it touches your savings, your future, your child, your move, your family rhythm, and your sense of security. Of course fear comes up!

A well-designed sabbatical does not mean nobody ever panics.

It means the panic does not get to run the entire show.

That is why structure matters. The purpose matters. The phases matter. The conversations matter. The ability to say, “Ah, this is the fear talking,” matters. Because without structure, fear can make every day feel like a referendum on whether the whole thing was a terrible idea. He rested today. Is that okay? He went for a bike ride. Is this self-care, or are we financially doomed? He is reading. Is reading enough? He's signed up for a triathlon. Is this a midlife crisis???

Structure gives you something to come back to. It reminds you what this time is for. Not every phase of a break is supposed to look productive from the outside. Sometimes the work is rest. Sometimes the work is recovery. Sometimes the work is remembering what gives you energy. Sometimes the work is letting an old identity loosen its grip before the next one has fully arrived, which is deeply annoying for anyone who craves certainty.

What I’m Most Proud Of

Despite the fears that have come up for me, the deeper truth is that I am incredibly proud of Joseph. Yes, he has my full support. And yes, let’s be honest, there was no way I was going to let him leap straight into the next thing without taking a sabbatical first. But he is the one actually doing it. He is leaning into the break, trusting himself, and saying, in his own way: I deserve this. We are secure. We have got this. I am taking care of myself now, and I trust that my future will follow.

And I love him so much for that.

It is easy to say you believe in rest, recovery, reinvention, and designing a life around what matters. The rubber hits the road when someone in your own household actually does it. And he is doing it.

I’m not coaching him like I coach my clients. Mostly because being married to someone and coaching them professionally is a terrible idea for everyone involved! He absorbs a lot from what I do, of course. It would be pretty hard not to. So yes, he is probably ahead of the average break-taker. But he is doing most of this himself. He came to me with his sabbatical themes already thought through, and honestly, I was like: "No notes!"

He is doing the work. He is stepping into his break fully. He is trusting that his future will take care of itself if he takes care of himself now. And I could not be more proud of him.

You Don’t Have to Be Married to a Sabbatical Coach

Joseph has a lot of support behind his break. He has me, the BreakSpace tools, the resources, the frameworks, and a structured approach to help him make the most of this time. Not everyone gets to be married to a sabbatical coach. Sorry, not sorry ;-)

But that is exactly why we created BreakSpace.

BreakSpace exists because a break can be one of the most powerful turning points in your life, but only if you know how to use it. It is a place for people navigating a break to get support, structure, coaching, resources, and community, so they can recharge properly, make better decisions, redesign life and work, and avoid drifting through the time, panicking through the time, or rushing back into the wrong thing because fear got loud.

Because taking a break is not just about stopping work. It is about creating enough space to ask better questions. What do I want work to look like in this chapter? What kind of life am I actually building? What do I need to recover from? What am I ready to let go of? What am I ready to move toward? And how do I do this without feeling like I’m falling behind?

Here's How We Can Help

Katrina and I are running a free workshop called Take a Break Without Falling Behind. It is for you if you are craving a break, planning a break, already on one, or wondering whether taking time out will damage your career, your momentum, or your future.

It is also for you if someone you love is taking a break and you are trying very hard to be supportive while your nervous system is unhelpfully drafting worst-case scenarios in the background.

Come join us. Your break does not have to be a reckless leap. It can be a strategic reset. It can be designed. It can be supported. And it can help you return clearer, stronger, and more aligned with the life you actually want.

Free Workshop: Take a Break Without Falling Behind

📆 Wednesday, May 13th⏰ 2PM Pacific Time | 5PM Eastern Time

💰 It's free

🎥 It'll be recorded (RSVP for the replay)

👉👉 RSVP here 👈👈

Can't wait to see you there!