Sustainable Leadership Starts Within
Impact Without Self-Erasure
For years, I believed leadership meant being the strongest person in the room — the one who could absorb the chaos, translate the data, meet the deadline, answer the question before it was fully formed. I didn’t just manage complexity — I carried it. And I was good at it.
On paper, I was thriving: promotions, expanding scope, executive visibility, high-performing teams — the kind of trajectory that signals, She’s got it.
But underneath that success was a quiet exhaustion I didn’t know how to name. Because when you’re competent, you don’t get permission to struggle. You get more responsibility.
The Promotion That Broke the Pattern
Ten weeks after having my firstborn, I returned to work. I remember the emotional whiplash — the tension between ambition and attachment, drive and guilt.
Looking back, I don’t think I slept that first week. I showed up to the office at 5 a.m. in my best outfits, with fresh highlights, syncing calendars with my husband.
Then I was invited to lunch by my bosses. I thought it was a welcome-back gesture. Instead, they promoted me to Media Director.
I felt pride. Validation. Adrenaline.
Then they told me they were letting my manager go.
When I walked back upstairs, he was gone. There was no transition. No backfill for my previous role. No margin. Just expectation.
I told myself this was exactly what I had worked for. Of course I could handle it. I always handled it.
So I worked harder. I managed my old responsibilities while absorbing new ones. I proved I belonged at the table. I worried about leaving at 5 p.m. for daycare pickup. I pumped in supply closets or on car rides with coworkers so no one could question my commitment.
I was determined not to look like I was struggling.
But that’s exactly what I was.
The Lie I Had Believed
Somewhere along the way, I had internalized a lie: that leadership meant endurance. That being indispensable was the same as being impactful. That if I could just hold everything together, I would earn stability.
But holding everything together is not leadership. It’s survival.
My breaking point wasn’t dramatic. It was cumulative.
My son’s daycare charged $3.00 per minute for every minute I was late to our planned pickup time — a small number that felt enormous when I was stuck in yet another meeting running over and staring at a 40-minute commute in Metro DC traffic.
So I left a job I loved.
That decision wasn’t about weakness. It was clarity.
And that clarity changed everything.
What I Do Now — And Why It’s Different
Today, my work sits at the intersection of strategy, media, storytelling, and leadership. But the real work I do? I translate complexity into clarity without dumbing it down — and I bring people with me.
I don’t absorb chaos anymore. I build containers for it.
When data is fragmented, I create narrative architecture. When expectations are unrealistic, I name what’s actually hard. When teams are overwhelmed, I introduce structure — not to control, but to create psychological safety.
Frameworks are not decoration. They are stability.
I’ve learned that clarity beats control. And structure prevents burnout — not just for me, but for the team I lead.
Sustainable Leadership
The women I meet — ambitious, accomplished, capable — are not lacking skill. They are carrying too much. They are navigating performance metrics, shifting platforms, cultural expectations, caregiving responsibilities, invisible emotional labor — all while trying to prove they deserve the seat they already earned.
What they don’t need is another productivity hack. They need permission to lead differently.
I lead without needing to be the loudest voice in the room. I influence by connecting the dots, not claiming credit. My fingerprints are everywhere — even when my name isn’t.
Impact does not require self-erasure. In fact, the opposite is true.
The more grounded I became in truth — naming burnout, setting expectations, creating better systems — the more effective I became. Teams moved faster. Decisions felt lighter. Work became sustainable.
The Message I Wish I Had Heard Sooner
Leadership is not about holding all the cards. It’s about naming what is actually hard. Creating structure when there is noise. Choosing clarity over control. Refusing to disappear in order to succeed.
For women who are already successful and quietly exhausted: your capacity is not your obligation.
You are allowed to design leadership that sustains you — not just impresses others.
That is not softer leadership.
It’s stronger.
And it is the kind that lasts.
