At the height of my post-grad career, I was balancing a demanding partnerships role at a nonprofit, managing multiple national corporate relationships, and advising over 200 student-athletes navigating life after college. On paper, I was thriving. But privately, I was grieving the sudden loss of my father. For months, I buried my emotions under to-do lists and deadlines, thinking that if I just kept going, I could outrun the pain.
Eventually, it caught up with me. I was exhausted, disconnected, and burnt out. That was the turning point when I finally gave myself permission to slow down. I took a leave from work for the first time, sought grief counseling, and built in space to process the weight of my loss. Saying, “I’m not okay right now,” felt uncomfortable at first, but it was also liberating.
Through this experience, I learned that healing isn’t linear, and strength doesn’t always look like pushing through. Sometimes, it means stepping back. It means being honest with yourself and those around you about your needs. This shift taught me how to create boundaries, ask for support, and prioritize rest without guilt.
It also reshaped how I approach leadership. I now recognize that modeling wellness is just as important as modeling performance. As I prepare to begin my MBA at Duke, I’m entering this next chapter with more intention. I’m building routines that protect my peace, whether that’s morning walks, journaling, or unplugging after a certain hour. I’m also choosing to be more open about the highs and lows, especially with peers who may feel like they have to carry it all alone.
In business, we often celebrate hustle and productivity, but rarely talk about sustainability in the context of our own health. I’ve realized that burnout isn’t a badge of honor, and that taking care of my mental and emotional well-being is essential if I want to lead with clarity, creativity, and compassion.
Losing my father was one of the hardest things I’ve ever faced, but it gave me a deep sense of perspective and clarity. I no longer equate my worth with productivity. I now see success not as a finish line, but as a balance between ambition and alignment, drive and rest, giving and receiving.
Moving forward, I’m committed to creating environments in school, work, or community, where people feel seen, supported, and encouraged to care for themselves. Because the truth is, we can’t pour into others from an empty cup. And I’ve learned that the strongest thing you can do sometimes is pause, breathe, and choose yourself.