I don't recognize her

On burnout, boundaries, and becoming the woman who doesn’t beg anymore

Yesterday, I found an old email I wrote to the COO of the physical therapy company I used to work for. I was afraid to send it at the time. When I reread it years later, it made me cry, not because of what I said, but because of who I was when I wrote it. I remember the long nights staying in the office long after everyone had gone just trying to finish all the patient notes I had that day.

I remember seeing thirty to forty patients in a ten-hour period and being completely drained when I got home. I’d have just enough energy to eat, shower, and climb into bed to do it all again the next day. I began to dread the work. Not the job, I loved helping people, but the paperwork was something they never prepare you for when you’re in school. I didn’t know that the paperwork was 80% of the job and treating patients was a mere 20%.

I thought that if I got a raise or changed my work week from a five-day work week to a four-day work week that that would change how I felt about going to work. I never got the raise by the way, but I did get a four-day work week. That lasted for about two months before the company decided I should work on the weekends. I was the only female therapist at the time and the only Black woman at the company. I tried to be a team player but it always felt like I took the brunt of every hardship of a company that wasn’t even mine.

After being asked to take a pay cut later that year, I finally had the balls to say enough is enough. There was a lot of back and forth and in the end I refused the pay cut and was let go. Although I still feel as though that was just a sneaky way to push me out. At least I had a severance package and company insurance to get me through the next few months.

After leaving that job I became a full-time content creator. I had already been in the game for several years and had built quite a large following across my blog Fashion Steele NYC and Instagram. But I never thought it would be a full-time forever kinda thing. Yet, here I am, seven years later, still doing it and I am so incredibly grateful that I got out before I burned out.

Sometimes people ask if I miss it and in all honesty I don’t. I do miss the patients and those little moments when I’ve helped them and know that I’ve made a difference in their lives. But I don’t miss the late nights surrounded by paperwork. I don’t miss begging to be paid what I’m worth. I don’t miss having to go in sick because if I’m sick we have to close for the day and the other employees miss out on a day of paid work. I don’t miss arguing with insurance companies for more visits and being summoned to court for patients’. I don’t miss knowing intimately how poorly the institution of healthcare treats people in The United States. If I don’t have to go back, I never will. I don’t care how much it cost me to get my Doctorate Degree.

When I read this old email I don’t recognize the person who wrote it. She was timid and fearful. She was compliant and complacent and agreeable. She didn’t want to ruffle any feathers or lose her primary source of income. She tried her best but she just didn’t have enough life experience yet. That old email is a glaring example of just how much I’ve grown as a woman and as a businesswoman. Today, I wouldn’t be afraid to ask for exactly what I am worth.

Today, I wouldn’t beat around the bush and try to be politically correct to soothe a man’s ego. Today, as soon as my requests weren’t being taken seriously, I’d pack up my shit and bounce. I made that company millions of dollars a year. Millions. Yet I only ever got one raise the entire three years I worked there, even though I asked. The problem was, I never demanded it.

When it comes to business and corporate, I’ve learned you have to be selfish and by that I mean you have to put yourself first, especially if you’re a woman in business. I didn’t want to be seen as the angry Black woman but I probably would have gotten further ahead had I been unapologetically direct instead of begging for solutions that benefited not only the company but myself as well. Working in corporate taught me I shouldn’t worry about being perceived as a bitch. The bitch always gets what she wants and more importantly what she deserves.

I thank God my employers had the audacity to ask me to take a pay cut because the sheer idiocy of it made me step outside of my fearful self and quite literally say: Fuck this job. As soon as I let go of the comfort and stability of a steady paycheck every two weeks, every door and window opened for me in content creation. I made more money in that first month as a full-time creator than I had ever made in my life. Yes, even more than what I made as a Doctor of Physical Therapy.

So I’m not saying everyone should quit their jobs and become entrepreneurs. Entrepreneurship is a whole different beast. I have never worked so hard as I have working for myself but it’s far more satisfying. What I’m saying is this: if you come to dread getting up in the morning to go to work, that is a serious problem. Sooner or later, something is going to give and it shouldn’t be you and your mental health. If this sounds familiar, you’re not weak, you’re paying attention.