Why telling a woman who is caring for a parent with dementia to take time off work might be exactly the wrong advice

She has been managing her mother's care for two years. She coordinates the GP appointments, chases the social worker, absorbs the distress calls at 11pm. At work, she is senior, dependable, and good at her job. She has not told anyone what is happening at home.

When she finally speaks to her GP about exhaustion, the advice is well-intentioned: take some time off, rest, recover.

She nods. She books the time off. She spends it managing a crisis with her mother's care home placement.

This is not an unusual story. In over two decades of working with women navigating burnout alongside caring responsibilities, I have heard versions of it hundreds of times. And it points to something that the wellbeing sector is still getting wrong.

For many women in the sandwich generation, work is not the problem. Removing it is not the solution.

I have written elsewhere about what burnout looks like in this specific context, the hypervigilance, the decision fatigue, the anticipatory grief that runs alongside everything else. If that is where you are, that post is a useful place to start. This one is about something that comes up once the exhaustion is named: the assumption that the answer is to step back from work.

For many of these women, that assumption is wrong. And the consequences of getting it wrong are significant.

The standard assumption, when someone is approaching burnout, is that they need to reduce their load. For women managing caring responsibilities alongside demanding careers, this misses something important about what work actually is for them.

Work, for many of these women, is the one domain in their lives where they still feel competent and in control. At work, there is a clear role, defined tasks, and measurable outcomes. At home, there is grief, uncertainty, and a care system that does not behave rationally. Work is not a burden on top of caring. For a significant number of women, it is the only place where they still feel like themselves.

"Work was the only thing that was still mine. The one place where I could close the door and be good at something. Taking time off didn't help. I just sat at home feeling useless while my mum deteriorated."

This reflects what I hear repeatedly from women in this situation, not one person's experience but a pattern. It is not a failure of coping. It is a rational response to an incredibly difficult situation. And it has implications for how employers, GPs, and wellbeing professionals should respond.

What do women in the sandwich generation actually need from their employer when they are struggling?

The comments section of a recent post I wrote about sandwich generation burnout told me something that should shift how employers think about this. The women responding were not asking for time off. They were asking for understanding, flexibility, and a manager who could hold the complexity of their situation without simplifying it.

Several described work as a refuge. A number said explicitly that they did not want to stop working, they wanted to be able to work without hiding what was happening. The invisibility of it, as one woman put it, was its own kind of exhaustion.

The research supports this. The IGLOO framework, developed by Affinity Health at Work and grounded in occupational health evidence, frames sustainable return to work and sustained presence at work as a shared responsibility across Individual, Group, Leader, and Organisational levels. It is not only up to the individual to manage their resilience. The environment around them must also flex.

Practically, what this looks like for sandwich generation women includes:

Flexible working arrangements that account for unpredictable caring demands, not just school hours. A carer's crisis does not follow a timetable. The ability to leave for an emergency without requiring advance notice is not a perk; it is the difference between someone staying in work or leaving it.

A manager who understands that disclosure is risky. Many women do not tell their employer about a parent with dementia because they fear being seen as less reliable or less committed. Creating a culture where disclosure is safe, and met with practical support rather than visible concern, matters enormously.

Adjusted expectations during acute periods of caring. This does not mean indefinite accommodation. It means acknowledging that a senior woman who is managing a parent's crisis is carrying a temporarily extraordinary load, and that her capacity at work will reflect that.

Under the Carer's Leave Act 2023, employees in the UK are entitled to one week of unpaid carer's leave per year, available from day one of employment. This is a floor, not a ceiling. Employers who treat it as a ceiling are missing the opportunity to retain experienced, senior women at precisely the point in their careers where they are most valuable.

When is taking time off the right answer for a woman experiencing burnout while caring for a parent?

This is not an argument that time off is never appropriate. It is an argument that the assumption needs to be examined before the advice is given.

Time off is likely to be genuinely restorative when the caring situation is stable, when there is cover in place, and when the woman herself has somewhere to go that is genuinely restful. For women in an acute caring crisis, time off can simply mean more unstructured time with the source of the stress, without the relief that work provides.

If time off is recommended, it is worth exploring concretely what that time will look like. Is there support in place for the caring role during that period? Is there financial security? Government research on phased return to work shows that concerns about income are a significant barrier, and the same applies to stepping back from work in any form.

The NHS guidance on returning to work after mental health difficulties recommends talking to a GP before going back and arranging a meeting with an employer or occupational health. That is sound. But the conversation before the time off matters just as much as the conversation on return. What does rest actually look like for this person? What would help, and what would simply shift the load without reducing it?

How can employers better support women who are managing burnout alongside caring responsibilities?

The HSE's work-related stress management standards identify six key factors in workplace stress: demands, control, support, relationships, role, and change. For sandwich generation women, the most significant levers are typically control and support.

Control means having genuine flexibility, not just the formal right to request it. It means being trusted to manage your own time, particularly when the unpredictability of a caring role makes rigid scheduling almost impossible to maintain.

Support means a manager who has enough emotional intelligence to hold a difficult conversation without it becoming about liability or performance management. It means an HR function that knows what carer's leave actually covers. It means an occupational health pathway that takes the whole picture seriously, not just the work-facing symptoms.

Carers UK's Employers for Carers programme and the Carer Confident benchmarking scheme offer frameworks for employers who want to build genuine carer-inclusive cultures. These are not difficult things to implement. They require intention, and they require leaders who understand that retaining experienced women through difficult periods of their lives is both the right thing to do and a sound business decision.

600 carers leave the workforce every day in the UK. The majority are women. Many of them could have stayed, with a different response from their employer at the point where the load became visible.

What is the nervous system doing during long-term caregiving, and why does this matter for recovery?

Burnout is not simply tiredness. It is a physiological state, and understanding that changes what recovery needs to look like.

Chronic caring, particularly where the care involves frequent crisis, emotional intensity, and unpredictability, keeps the nervous system in a state of persistent activation. The threat-detection system does not distinguish between a work deadline and a 2am call from a care home. It responds to all of it. Over time, the system loses its ability to fully return to rest.

This is why women in this situation often describe feeling wired but exhausted, unable to switch off even when they have the chance. The body has simply learned that rest is not safe. It is what happens to a nervous system that has been carrying too much for too long.

Recovery from this state requires more than rest. It requires regulation, which means experiences that actively signal safety to the nervous system, gentle movement, time in nature, co-regulation with people who feel safe, and the gradual reduction of the vigilance load. It also requires addressing the structural sources of the load, not only the individual's response to it.

This is the work I do with clients through RESTORE, a programme that combines nervous system education, behavioural insight, and practical support for the realities of midlife caring. It is grounded in the understanding that these women are not failing to cope. They are coping with something that would test anyone. What they need is not to be fixed. They need support that meets the complexity of what they are actually carrying.

The bottom line: what needs to change about how we support sandwich generation women experiencing burnout?

The women I work with are not struggling because they are weak or overwhelmed by ordinary stress. They are carrying an extraordinary double load, often without recognition, often without support, and often while continuing to function at a very high level.

They do not, in the main, need to be told to rest. They need employers who understand the shape of their lives. They need GPs who ask the fuller question before reaching for a sick note. They need wellbeing professionals who know that work can be part of the solution rather than the source of the problem.

And they need the people around them, at work and beyond, to understand that staying visible, staying in the room, and asking for what they need is not the easy option for these women. For many of them, it takes considerable courage.

If you are a woman reading this who recognises herself in it, I want you to know: the weight you are carrying is real, the exhaustion is real, and there is support that takes all of it seriously.

About Laura Jessica Walker

Laura Jessica Walker is a burnout and wellbeing consultant based in Cornwall with over two decades of experience in mental health, dementia care, coaching & training. She works primarily with women in the sandwich generation, supporting them to recover from burnout without losing the work, the identity, and the life that matters to them. She co-founded Memory Matters CIC, a dementia organisation, is a freelance trainer with Promas CIC, and project manages the Sensory Trust's Creative Spaces programme across Cornwall.

Visit laurajessica.com to find out more about working with Laura, or download her free guide, The Last One On Your Own List, written for women who are carrying a lot and are running low.