There was a season in my leadership career when the words “I’m fine” came out of my mouth daily. I said it with a straight face and steady voice, a smile, and the quiet confidence people rely on when things feel uncertain.

 “I’m fine,” I’d say, then move a meeting, avoiding conflicts, and being the ‘cheerleader’ to keep the momentum alive. 

At first, it was a performance. Eventually, it became a belief. I believed it was my job to hold everything together.

When you lead at a high level, people watch you for cues. Your steadiness becomes the emotional barometer for the room. If you look overwhelmed, anxiety spreads. If you appear calm, the system stabilizes. 

That responsibility is real. But somewhere along the way, projecting steadiness became self-deception. I wasn’t just calming the room, I was convincing myself I was “fine.”

What I didn’t say out loud was that I was making dozens of decisions before lunch and replaying conversations late at night. I was balancing competing priorities and managing frustration to keep the team from fracturing. I was the buffer between pressure from above and strain below.

I told myself this was leadership.

In many ways, it was. But it came at a cost I didn’t recognize until much later.

I remember nights when the office was dark except for the glow of my computer. I told myself, “One more thing off the to-do list will help.” If I push a little harder, maybe tomorrow will feel a little lighter.

Meanwhile, my gym membership collected dust. Coffee became a food group. Doctor’s appointments were rescheduled. I promised myself I’d rest after the next deadline.

There is always another deadline.

At the time, it felt responsible. Dependable, Strong.

Looking back, I can see something else. I wasn’t strengthening the system. I was compensating for it.

If tension surfaced, I absorbed it. If a decision stalled, I pushed it forward. If ownership was unclear, I quietly took it on. The team kept moving, but over time, something subtle shifted. Decisions waited for me. Hard conversations routed through me. The system learned that I would carry what it dropped.

I became the structure everything leaned on.

Strong leaders rarely say they’re struggling. They understand the impact their emotional state has on the system. They don’t want to create an alarm. They don’t want to add to the burden of already stretched teams.

So they hold more than they should.

I held more than I or anyone should have.

Over time, that invisible load tested my patience. My thinking narrowed. I spent more time managing friction than shaping direction. I thought I was protecting the team. In reality, I was limiting their growth and mine.

Looking back, I can see what I couldn’t see then: it was too much, and I was far from fine. At the time, it just felt like “my job’. It’s leadership, it’s what you do when people are counting on you. I didn’t think I was overextended; I thought I was being dependable. 

I remember someone once telling me I looked burned out. I bristled. I thought, Only the weak burn out. I wasn’t exhausted, I told myself. I was committed.

What I understand now is this: endurance is not the same as sustainability.

If I could sit with that version of myself now I wouldn’t tell her to push harder. I would gently tell her the real truth “You are carrying more than one person was meant to hold”.

I would tell her: 

• Not every tension in the room belongs to you. Naming tension does not destabilize a team; it strengthens trust. 
• Stop absorbing strain that others need to learn to hold. When you smooth over (or ignore) a friction point, you prevent growth.
• Finally, your endurance is not proof of strength. Your sustainability is.  Leaving on time, protecting recovery, and honoring your limits aren’t indulgences — they are leadership decisions that protect clarity and longevity.

If this feels familiar, you don’t need to try harder.

Your Leadership Edge is a five-month cohort experience for women leaders who are ready to stop overfunctioning and start leading with structural clarity. It’s designed for those carrying real responsibility who want leadership that feels grounded and sustainable, not heroic.

If you’re ready to build a system that supports the leader you are now, you can learn more about the next cohort of Your Leadership Edge and apply here.