You are camera-on at 10 am, caffeinated and nodding at all the right things. You give the kind of insights you were hired for.
The executive says, “This is exactly what we’re missing…” and you glance at the clock. You’re 3 minutes late for your 1:1 with your mentee.
Shit.
On slow days, you feel like you’re biding your time. For what? Who knows. (Seriously, can someone plot out your life for you? You’re so good at following directions.)
On the busiest days, you can't wait to go to bed. But once you're there, there’s no sleep - revenge bedtime procrastination strikes again. You lie there exhausted, wired, and empty and pick up your phone at 9:50 pm for a quick scroll.
Suddenly, you’re watching your fourth hoarder-house-cleaning video and it’s almost midnight. You swipe again. A fifth hoarder video beats sitting in that nothing you’ve been avoiding.
It’s bigger than burnout
What’s weird is you like your work. You wanted it. You got it. You do it well. The Sunday Scaries are gone. The money is good, but not your driving force. This isn’t another COVID-19, where some virus is keeping us holed up.
Still.
You feel like you’re wading through molasses. Even though you’ve carved out time to do the things you like - starting a new hobby, quietly building a business, or writing that novel - you're frozen when that free time is staring you in the face.
Your friend tells you that you're not the only one. Everyone feels like something is off. You know this. You’ve seen the memes. But knowing isn't enough.
If you're like me, you're more likely to listen to the numbers over the niceties.
It's not you - it's the system
Like COVID-19, there's a virus quietly moving through the workplace. Let’s call it the compression virus.
We optimized our inputs and outputs so much that what once took weeks of work now takes days. We contorted ourselves to satisfy executive expectations while looking out for our team. We scheduled community care, family care, and self-care.
Check, check, check.
The more we do, the more we compress our responsibilities, the higher the pressure builds. We can handle pressure, but what's happening in the world right now is unmanageable.
Gallup is sounding the alarm: only 20% of employees strongly agree that they like what they do every day. Nearly 30% report feeling burned out often or always. Engagement levels for the U.S. workforce are at a decade-low.
The ones most susceptible to the compression virus are managers.
- Compressed between protecting your team and meeting executive demands.
- Compressed between caregiving for your kids and your aging parents.
- Compressed between being financially responsible and pouring enough into your relationships.
I’ve spent almost 5 years working with managers caught in this squeeze, this compression. The ones who treat their virus don’t hit the nuclear option on their life, or ‘quiet quit’ and work less.
They can’t escape the squeeze of being a manager, but they can stop being the only one holding it all together.
They lean on their village.
Your village already exists
You don't need to build or find a village. It already exists.
Your village is the people who see you beyond your job title or life roles.
Most clients I work with have villages they never use. They have people who will show up when asked.
The problem is…they’d have to ask. Asking for help often feels like admitting that they're not self-sufficient.
The internal monologue goes something like, ‘Hi. I can't do it all. I’m a piece of shit.'
What I’ve learned through my clients is that the ones who thrive are the ones who stop pretending they need nothing.
When you have a structure that holds you, the compression virus does not disappear. It goes into remission.
You will still feel that squeeze between executives and your team. You will carry morale on your shoulders. The corporate hierarchy will keep you accountable without authority until we change that structure. (One thing at a time.)
But the real difference is you’re not managing all that in isolation.
Because the weight of hard work alone isn’t what breaks your brain. Hard work is something you enjoy.
What will break you is the belief that you should struggle alone with something that everyone expects you to handle. It’s the feeling that you’re the only manager who is struggling to hold on.
You’re not. That's a fact, not just a feeling.
The fulfillment gap
Many of my high-performer clients come to me because they feel unfulfilled despite doing everything right.
'Sure I could keep doing this job for another 15-20 years, but I don't want to. I want something more meaningful that can still support my lifestyle.'
They are out of survival mode and into something deeper → wellbeing.
According to Gallup, there are five elements to wellbeing
💼 Career wellbeing: You like what you do every day.
🤝🏼 Social wellbeing: You have meaningful friendships in your life.
💰 Financial wellbeing: You manage your money well.
💪🏼 Physical wellbeing: You have energy to get things done.
🏘️ Community wellbeing: You like where you live.
One of these things is not like the other. Career wellbeing.
Liking what you do every day has a direct impact on all of the other four elements: how much money you make, who you interact with, how much energy you have, and where you live.
Career wellbeing is more than being good at your job, getting paid well, or liking your team. It combines your personal growth and professional development.
When managers are engaged but not thriving in their lives, they add risk to their companies. Disengaged managers miss more days of work due to depression and anxiety.
No productivity = no money = many problems.
I saw similar sentiments to Gallup in the data I gathered from my high-performers survey. Two-thirds of respondents said their goals mostly supported each other, that there were no major conflicts or competition between their goals.
But when I asked them how they felt about their progress, the most common response was: stretched too thin. Almost everyone said they felt like they were failing at their goals, many saying they felt this constantly.
This isn't a focus, clarity, or prioritization problem.
It’s a wellbeing problem.
Put down the damn to-do list
I don't want you to look at that list of five elements of wellbeing and think: Great, another thing to do.
I want you to look at it and think:
Oh. The reason I feel stuck isn’t because I’m failing or I'm not capable enough. It’s because I was never meant to do everything alone.
That’s where the village comes in. A village can be a mix of friends, neighbors, coaches, and strangers. Dealer's choice.
Now, let's imagine you stopped pretending you had to do it all and there were no rules.
What would you do instead?
Take care of yourself,
Susan
