Nice Work: What if cartwheels and coffee stains are better than gravitas?

Hey there,

When I look back on my bout of burnout, it’s hard to remember what symptoms came first. Was it how my body seized up whenever my 300 inboxes dinged? Or how I lost 15 pounds in a month because I had no time to eat between back-to-back meetings? Maybe it was how I started shrinking back from my projects, trying to stay under the radar—hiding from the voice in my head that kept telling me I was just not up for this challenge.

I tried therapy. I tried exercise. I tried meditation and yoga and wine. I logged out of all the Slack channels. I quit volunteering. I took PTO. All of this and I was still absolutely exhausted.

I felt my burnout in my bones. 

So when a concerned friend suggested I talk to a psychic—ahem, spiritual teacher and intuitive reader—I booked that appointment immediately. I would have tried anything to stop feeling like this.

I can’t remember much of the conversation. I know I treated it like a confessional. All my sadness and shame came pouring out of me. I thought for a minute, “I hope my coworkers don’t hear me.” And then I realized how little I cared if they did.

But the moment that changed everything came when she said: “Jen, you don’t have a self.” 

Those words took my breath away. I braced for them to shut me down,  but instead… I felt like a deflating balloon whizzing in the air. I started to laugh really, really hard. I’m not sure I’ve ever been so relieved in my life.

Here’s why: I had told myself over and over again that the reason I was struggling was because I was bad. I was bad at content strategy, bad at people, bad at life. But her statement made me realize I was struggling so much because I was fighting against the current, trying to be someone other than myself.

I’d learned to become whatever I thought someone needed or expected.

I didn’t even ask—I just offered myself up on a platter every day, a pliable wad of clay.

Imposter me wanted to be seen as helpful, so she volunteered whenever someone needed a hand. Imposter me was insecure, so she worked double her hours making sure her decks were absolutely perfect. Imposter me felt like her role was to keep the peace, not create problems. Imposter me was very, very quiet. 

It was that imposter me that sucked—not the ACTUAL me. 

ACTUAL me? Not quiet at all! I’m the kid who choreographed a six-cartwheel entrance before belting out a Mariah Carey song in first grade. I’m the teenager who battled my high school administration because they wouldn’t let me run a research project on teen sexuality. I’m the adult who got the nickname “the enforcer” on jury duty because I made people speak respectfully to each other during deliberations—and called time-out when they didn’t.

The psychic was only partially correct. It wasn’t that I had no self—it’s that I’d lost touch with it. 

So I set out to be me again.

I started researching myself: my values, my needs, my strengths, my challenges. I trained myself to investigate my every thought and interaction. Like, why did I take that meeting when I was on vacation? Who was I trying to please—and what was the story I was telling myself about why I had to please them?

Making other people feel good was no longer my purpose. And now I needed a new one. 

I admitted to myself that I wasn’t bad at the work—I was just bored doing it. I found meaning in supporting people, not their projects. I loved helping new people grow their internal networks and think beyond our team. I felt proud of myself when I was able to help people find common ground. 

This is why I moved into management. And, eventually, it’s why I became a coach.

I learned to love the things I was ashamed of. For example: I am not polished. Put me in an important meeting and I will spill coffee all over myself in the first five minutes. But here’s the flipside: people feel like they can be themselves around me. That actually used to make me feel less than—like, “why don’t I have any gravitas?” But then I started to embrace it as a superpower. Because people were comfortable with me, I was able to build close relationships easily. And I used that strength to forge connections while doing something I actually loved: being with people.

Give-no-shits-me got promoted four levels in less than two years. 

I’m joking about it now, but the truth is it really makes me sad that I lost all that time.

And based on the conversations I’m having with fellow designers, I fear a lot of you are doing the same. You’re unhappy at work. You’re exhausted from the fight. You don’t know what you want anymore–you just know it’s not this.

When you look back on your life, I want you to feel like your time was spent well, even at work. That’s why we created Create Your Leadership Canvas, a two-part workshop scheduled for August 8 and 10. It’s an opportunity to follow a process like mine to check in with yourself about how you want to show up in your life, whether you’re leading a team or leading yourself.   

We’ll go deep on your values, your vision, and what success means to you—not your boss, or your colleagues, or your parents, or your spouse. We’ll help you put a stake in the ground on who you are, what matters to you, and how you want to act. You’ll come away with a vision for what things look like when you’re leading like yourself—and more confidence in catching yourself when you’re leading like someone else.

You’ve tried being what people want you to be, and the result has been burnout and pain. Do you really want to feel that way for another day, or year, or decade?

I’m no psychic, but I can tell you this: the only path worth traveling is yours. Trust yourself to find your way.

—Jen

Create Your Leadership Canvas

Two-part workshop. Meets August 8 and 10 from 12-2pm ET.

Uncover your leadership values, gain confidence in your strengths, and establish the growth areas that are most meaningful to you right now. Leave with a complete personal leadership canvas you can use for both day-to-day decisions and big-picture career planning.

EPISODE 7

Can I uphold my values and still get a job?

What’s the difference between Dante’s Inferno and the hiring process? The Inferno only had nine circles of hell.