I remember when work had completely taken over my life. Even when I wasn’t working, I was thinking about work. When I was sleeping, I was dreaming about work. I woke up thinking about everything I had to do and going to bed thinking about everything I had to do the next day.  

I shook it off because I felt like that’s what I needed to do to build my career and business. It’s not a pretty journey to the top, and I was taught, “You have to work twice as hard to get half as much.” So, I fought like hell to work through the exhaustion and make a name for myself. I didn’t want anyone to see me as someone who didn’t have it all figured out. I was very much obsessed with the external optics of being someone who had it all together when, internally, I was struggling and conflicted. 

I thought I would feel fulfilled because, to be quite honest, I love the work I do. But I soon found myself with a gripping amount of burnout and exhaustion. 

A typical day for me would be waking up and skipping breakfast, making a big cup of coffee, and jumping straight into email. Then, I would sit in back-to-back meetings, skipping lunch to get through my tasks and only having time to grab a snack. By the end of the work day, the sun had gone down, and all I had was a cup of coffee and maybe a bag of popcorn or a protein bar. I was too exhausted to cook, so I’d order a meal from Ubereats. Sometimes, I was too tired to decide what to eat for dinner. So, I would go to bed without a proper meal. 

At the end of the day, I felt depleted. But I justified pushing through because I had a team of people and clients that depended on me. I also worked in a field that made an impact, so I thought about all the people I would let down, even if it meant letting myself down or my needs go ignored. 

I was spread thin. But I couldn’t help myself. 

My breaking point was near. I saw it coming in plain sight, yet didn’t let go of my self-abandonment ways. What’s the point of throwing my all into my work to build this life for myself if I don’t have the energy to truly enjoy it?

This led me to find my way back to therapy, and in talks with my therapist, she asked me who I was outside of my work. 

That’s when it hit me. My identity was wrapped up in achievement. To be honest, I couldn’t even answer the question.

I found myself filled with anger and disappointment that though I had external success, I felt internally empty. 

  • Am I pushing myself to the brink to prove that I’m not weak?
  • Am I afraid to ask for help because I see it as a weakness?
  • Am I trying to avoid feelings of inadequacy by constantly working?
  • Am I using work as a shield to protect myself from feeling hurt?
  • Am I driven by a fear of failure rooted in past experiences?

And the loudest question of them all:  Am I measuring my worth by external achievements?

Why am I tying my achievement to my worth? Worthy of someone to care for, respect, regard, and love. 

That’s when I realized that something needed to change. I had to make a shift in my life to decenter my work in order to find myself. I mean who I truly am at my core. When I strip away the titles, the accolades, the stages, who am I? 

Image used with permission from Latesha Byrd.

My deep attachment to overworking held my emotional well-being hostage. 

Growing up in a single-parent household, we didn’t have much. I vividly remember my mother sitting at the kitchen table, struggling to make ends meet. She was going through piles of bills and credit card statements to figure out which bills to pay for the month and which ones she could push to the next one. 

I felt like a burden. So I started working at 15. I lived a completely different lifestyle in high school than many of my peers. I was working 25 hours a week to support the household.  

Then, when I graduated from college and started my corporate career, I was navigating microaggressions, being questioned, doubted, dismissed, and overlooked. 

This led to ensuring I could pull my weight so that no one had to “worry about me.” I needed to make sure I had it all figured out and didn’t need anybody.

That weight to carry is insurmountable. 

That’s when I learned overworking is a trauma response.

Yes. Overworking is a trauma response. And it can be deeply ingrained, especially for women of color who face nuanced and intersectional challenges in the workplace. 

We often feel the pressure to overperform in environments where we are underrepresented, undervalued, and subjected to microaggressions. The weight of these experiences can make us believe that our worth is tied solely to our output and achievements.

But this narrative is damaging. It perpetuates a cycle of exhaustion, burnout, and emotional neglect. Studies show that women of color are more likely to experience burnout due to the added layers of racism and sexism in the workplace. 

According to a survey by LeanIn.org and McKinsey & Company, Black women are less likely to feel supported at work and more likely to be subject to microaggressions, leading to higher stress levels and a greater need to prove their worth through overwork.

This overworking is not just about personal ambition; it’s a survival mechanism in a system that wasn’t built with us in mind. But we need to start acknowledging that this cycle of overworking isn’t sustainable, and it’s certainly not a badge of honor. It’s a response to trauma that has been normalized in our communities.

This conversation is more urgent than ever.

This conversation is more critical now than ever, given the current climate. We’re witnessing a significant pushback against DEI initiatives in many organizations, with some questioning the need for these programs altogether. This backlash isn’t just about policies; it’s about the very environments where women of color work and the systemic pressures that drive us to overwork. It’s a cycle where the external environment feeds into internal pressures, making it harder for WOC to break free from the need to constantly push ourselves to the brink.

The structures we’re required to navigate to have career success demand more from women of color while offering less support. 

In my work as CEO of Perfeqta, a talent development agency that guides companies in building healthy workplace cultures, and Executive Coach for high-achieving women of color who have coached hundreds of women,  I see it time and time again. We’re giving 150% to our work, leaving nothing for us to give to ourselves at the end of the day. 

Women of color are experts in overworking.

Overworking is often misinterpreted as dedication or ambition, but for many, especially women of color (WOC), it’s a response to deep-seated trauma. 

Trauma can manifest in various ways—past experiences of discrimination, feeling unsafe or undervalued, or the pressure to meet unrealistic expectations. For WOC, trauma might look like growing up in environments where resources were scarce, witnessing family members struggle to make ends meet, or constantly being reminded that they need to work twice as hard to get half as much. 

These experiences can instill a belief that their worth is tied to their productivity, leading to a relentless drive to overwork as a way to avoid feeling inadequate or vulnerable.

This overworking isn’t just about personal ambition; it’s often a coping mechanism. It’s about trying to prove that you belong in spaces that were never designed for you, that you’re worthy of the respect and recognition that’s so often withheld. When trauma is left unaddressed, it can lead to a cycle of overworking, where exhaustion is mistaken for progress, and burnout becomes a badge of honor.

Systemic structures at work don’t make it any easier.

The work environments that WOC navigate are often complicit in fueling this cycle. Systemic structures reward overworking and productivity while punishing any perceived lack of dedication. Microaggressions, pay inequities, and the scarcity of sponsors or mentors contribute to a work culture where WOC feel they must go above and beyond just to be seen, let alone valued.

These environments reward those who can consistently produce, regardless of the personal cost. They rarely account for the additional emotional and mental labor that WOC endure—labor that’s often invisible to their peers. The result is a toxic cycle where the more you give, the more is expected of you, and the more you’re at risk of burning out without anyone noticing or, worse, caring.

In the end, WOC feel the need to prove themselves.

For WOC, the need to overwork is also tied to a deep-seated fear of being perceived as less capable or less committed. 

There’s often an unspoken pressure to constantly prove oneself, to counteract stereotypes that suggest WOC are not as competent or driven as their peers. This pressure is compounded by the knowledge that opportunities for advancement are fewer and the consequences of mistakes are more severe. 

As a result, WOC often feel they must exceed expectations just to secure a place at the table.

Is it then time to break the addiction to overworking?

Workplaces themselves often exacerbate this addiction to overworking by prioritizing output over well-being. 

Systems that reward long hours, constant availability, and the ability to push through exhaustion without complaint create an environment where overworking is not just normalized but celebrated. These systems disproportionately affect WOC, who may feel they have no choice but to conform to these expectations if they want to advance in their careers.

Reclaim your well-being by recognizing the link between overworking and unresolved trauma. 

You have the power to shift the narrative around overworking and help create a world where success doesn’t come at the cost of your health. Remember, you deserve to thrive—not just survive—and that starts with taking care of yourself first.

Latesha Byrd is an Executive Coach and Talent Development Advisor who drives transformation in the corporate world by bridging workplace equity, organizational and individual wellness, and inclusion. As CEO and Founder of Perfeqta, she empowers organizations to implement equitable practices and cultivate healthier work environments. Latesha obtained an Organizational Mindfulness Certification from the Institute for Organizational Science and Mindfulness (IOSM) and is currently pursuing her Trauma Coach Certification. Her insights have been featured in Forbes, WSJ, Essence, and The New York Times. Learn more from Latesha by subscribing to her WorkFlow newsletter and following her on socials. 

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