When Did You Stop Loving Work?

Have you ever wished you could fall in love with your job again? That you could find the motivation, the energy, the passion that brought you into this sector in the first place? And, if you’re honest, have you also found yourself wondering how to motivate your team, when you’re struggling to motivate yourself? If this resonates, you’re not alone. And it’s not a sign that you’re failing, that you’re not committed to the work or that you don’t care. It’s a sign that something needs to change, so that work feels fulfilling again. 

What going through the motions actually looks and feels like 

The leaders I work with often describe a feeling of going through the motions. On one hand they often can’t switch off from work, there is a constant worry, but they also feel detached from it, the excitement that they used to feel just isn’t there, and sometimes this turns into dread and resentment. And usually this feeling has crept up so gradually they didn’t notice until they were already deep in it. 

At work, you’re functioning, you’re showing up, doing what needs to be done. But you feel like you’re coasting, that you’re not getting to all the things you should be doing, because you can’t quite make yourself do them. You pretend everything is fine because you’re the leader, and the leader is supposed to have it together. You worry that whilst no one has noticed yet, eventually they will. That the mask you’re wearing will eventually slip. And what will happen if they realise you’re not as invested as you once were? 

As Sunday evening approaches, the knot in your stomach tightens at the dread of going back to it all; the emails, the meetings, the problems that will be waiting. You used to look forward to Monday. Now you don’t. 

And then the guilt hits. So, you overwork to compensate, to prove to yourself and everyone else that you’re still committed. 

Which exhausts you further. 

Which makes motivation harder to find. 

Round and round you go. 

What makes this particularly painful is that you remember what it felt like when you loved the work. To be excited by it. To feel like it meant something. And the gap between then and now is distressing in a way that’s hard to explain to people outside the sector. Because this was never just a job, it was always a part of who you are, and it was a calling. And somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling like that. 

Why does this happen? 

Understanding what contributes to losing your motivation matters, because without that understanding, the usual advice (remember your why, think about the impact you’re making) tends to fall flat. Not because the advice is wrong, but because it doesn’t address what’s actually going on. 

The sector sets you up for it. 

The charity sector draws people in through meaning and purpose. Which means when the passion starts to fade, it’s not just demotivating, it’s disorienting. It touches your sense of identity. Who am I if I don’t love this work? 

And as you move up in an organisation, the day-to-day work moves further and further from the reason you joined. The frontline impact gets harder to see, the spreadsheets multiply. You can find yourself trapped in work that isn’t interesting, that doesn’t work to your strengths, all the things you know you should do, not the things which you love to do. 

And the strategic work which you want to be focused on gets lost in everything else. The meaningful, interesting, rewarding work is still there, but you have to work harder to find it. And when you’re exhausted and caught in the day-to-day, that’s challenging to do. 

The cycle that keeps you stuck. 

When you’re in this state, there’s a cycle you can get trapped in. You start to only notice the negatives (the difficult meeting, the funding knock-back, the team stresses, the work that you dread) and the positives (the wins, the impact, the moments of connection, the work you love) slip past unnoticed. You build a story that confirms how you’re feeling. And because you’re too caught in the day-to-day to step back, it’s very hard to find your way out from inside it. 

This isn’t weakness, it’s how the brain works under pressure. But knowing it’s happening is the first step to breaking the cycle, and rediscovering your motivation. 

Motivation isn’t a fixed state. 

The trouble is, we often think motivation is something we either have or don’t have. But it’s rare for any of us to be motivated by every single aspect of our job, just as we’re unlikely to be completely disengaged (unless we are at the point of burnout, which is something much bigger than a loss of motivation). 

So instead of thinking about motivation as a binary, think of it as a scale from one to five, which you move between depending on what you’re doing and how you’re feeling about it. 

One: won’t do. You’re disengaged, and at some point you stopped loving the job. 

Two: have to. You’re in survival mode, driven by compliance, fear, and deadlines. You’re doing the work because you have to, not because you want to. 

Three: should do. You know what you should be doing, you know it’s good for you or the organisation. But the should is heavy, and you feel guilty and anxious. 

Four: want to. You’re doing the work because it feels good, you’re enjoying it, it’s interesting, and because it connects to what matters to you. This is where engaged charity workers spend most of their time when things are working well. 

Five: love to. You’re fully absorbed in what you’re doing, you love it, and it holds your interest. 

If you feel like you’re going through the motions, it’s a sign you’ve slipped from spending most of your time in four or five down to one, two or three. The question to ask is: what has shifted? Because understanding that is central to knowing what you need to do to rekindle your motivation. 

What you can actually do about it 

These steps aren’t about forcing positivity or telling yourself to feel differently. They’re about making deliberate, practical changes that create the conditions for motivation to return. 

1. Use the five-point scale. 

Think about your main tasks and responsibilities, where do they sit on that scale right now? For the ones sitting at one or two, what would it take to move them to three or four? Sometimes a small shift in how you approach a task, who you do it with, planning a reward, or when you schedule it can move the needle more than you’d expect. 

2. Notice what energises you and what drains you. 

For one week, pay attention. Which tasks leave you feeling alive, engaged, even slightly interested? Which ones leave you flat, heavy, or resentful? Write them down. 

As one of my clients put it, sprinkle your week with joy. Plan the energising tasks regularly throughout your week and month. Where possible, do the draining ones when you’re most resourced, not when you’re running on empty. You can’t always control what’s on your list, but you can often control when and how you approach it. 

3. Reconnect the draining tasks to your meaning. 

The tasks that don’t hold your interest or that you dread, the reporting, the spreadsheets, the endless meetings, don’t exist in a vacuum. They’re necessary to make the work possible. Can you find the thread that connects them back to the reason you’re here? 

This isn’t about pretending to enjoy things you don’t. It’s about helping you see the bigger picture and tap into your intrinsic motivation, the deeper why, which is what sustains you through the parts of the job that don’t light you up. 

4. Ask yourself a difficult question. 

Are your values still aligned with this organisation? Is the work still challenging you enough? Does the culture still feel like somewhere you can thrive? 

These aren’t easy questions. But they matter. Because sometimes going through the motions is a signal, not that something is wrong with you, but that something has run its course. There is no shame in that. What matters to us, and what gives us meaning, evolves over time. And sometimes the most courageous thing a leader can do is acknowledge that they’ve outgrown the role, and it’s time for change. 

5. Step back. 

And if these don’t help you, then it might be time to step back. You cannot find perspective from inside the problem, sometimes that perspective only comes with some distance. Whether that’s a walk at lunchtime, a conversation with a trusted peer, or time with a coach, creating space to reflect rather than react is how you start to see the wood for the trees again. 

The bigger picture 

Going through the motions feels difficult, but it doesn’t mean that the work doesn’t matter to you, or that you’re not a good leader. And it isn’t permanent. 

It’s a sign that something has shifted in the balance between what the work demands and what you get back in terms of interest, enjoyment and development. And that balance can change, but only if you create the space to notice what’s happening and make some deliberate choices about what comes next. 

The leaders I work with who find their way back to loving the work, and many do, rarely do it by trying harder or thinking more positively. They do it by getting honest about what’s missing, making small but deliberate changes to how they work, and giving themselves permission to matter as much as the work does.