When was the last time you felt joy?
When was the last time you felt true joy—not fleeting happiness or accomplishment, but the kind of peace that quiets your mind and opens your heart?
I remember my moment vividly.
It was a warm summer evening in London. My son, just 7 years old at the time, and I were riding atop a classic red double-decker bus, touring the city after a rain. The sun had just come out, casting a golden light across the buildings. My son was fast asleep, his head resting in my lap, his small body curled in trust and safety. The bus hummed along, and for the first time in a long time, I felt still. No deadlines. No client concerns. No mental checklist running in the background.
Just peace.
That memory has become my anchor. I return to it often, especially now, in the midst of what I can only describe as a personal and professional reckoning.
Veterinary medicine is my calling—but it’s also become my source of pain. Like so many of you, I’ve found myself worn down by years of solo practice, by emotionally charged cases, by boundary-pushing clients, and by the crushing weight of corporate expectations. I asked for help. I advocated for my wellbeing. And instead of support, I was treated like I was the problem.
I know I’m not alone.
We’ve all seen the buzzwords: burnout, compassion fatigue, moral injury, vicarious trauma. They circulate through webinars, conferences, journal articles. But when I speak candidly with other veterinarians, I hear the same sentiment over and over: “I don’t want to be labeled as burned out. That feels like failure.”
And that’s the catch, isn’t it? We’re high achievers. We’re problem solvers. We’re the ones others rely on in a crisis. Admitting we’re struggling feels like weakness—and yet, nearly every one of us is carrying this silent burden.
Here’s what I want to say to every veterinary professional reading this:
You are not weak.
You are not alone.
And you haven’t failed.
We’ve been conditioned to push through, to wear suffering like a badge of honour. But it’s not sustainable. It never was. That’s why I created Off the Beaten Path Veterinary Retreats—to carve out a space where we can step away from the noise, reconnect with ourselves, and remember why we chose this path in the first place.
These retreats aren’t about fixing you. You’re not broken. They’re about giving you room to breathe, to reflect, and maybe—just maybe—to feel joy again.
Because you deserve that. We all do.
—
Midge Ritchie, DVM
Founder, Off the Beaten Path Veterinary Retreats