On a warmer-than-usual December evening 2.5 years ago, I went into premature labor at 24 weeks. I started hemorrhaging at my kitchen table-both my life and the life of the child I was carrying were in the balance. And in this terrifying moment, what did I think? “Nuts, I forgot to email that final report.”
The next day, after I was finally “stabilized” (and those are in quotes because I was still bleeding, my BP was 220/118, I was slurring all my words, still in labor, and my unborn son had a 10% chance of surviving). Amid this, it being the 21st century and all, my boss Beth, who was also my mentor, heard what happened and texted me–not with a request for work but with wisdom I will never forget. My initial reply was how “great I was feeling” and how “I should probably give someone access to my Google Docs because I had the final report that needed to be turned in.”
This was Beth’s reply:
“Jane, if you die, we will all sob. We will miss you. We will get on Zoom and sob some more. We will raise money for your family. We will send home-cooked meals. After that’s all done, we will post your job. Because all this is, is work. It doesn’t matter. You’re bleeding to death, your child at this moment has a literal 10% chance of survival, and you’re thinking about work? As much energy as you give to your work, give that same energy to living for yourself and your family.
Ultimately, I did. This harrowing experience helped me gather the strength and the wherewithal to get off the corporate treadmill I was on and start my own business. I’m one of the lucky ones. Our productivity culture (hey #hustle looking at you) has wormed its way into our consciousness so thoroughly that it’s damn near impossible for most women to hop off the extremely steep treadmill of corporate culture even when faced with life and death situations.
Like many millennial women in corporate America, I was striving to reach the top of my field in global health—and it felt like an exciting time to do it! Despite the fact that women hold less than 5% of executive roles and make up only a quarter of the top 10% of earners in the U.S., these gaps—fueled by discrimination, pay inequity, and sexism—didn’t stop many of us from pursuing leadership positions. But as more women earn advanced degrees and move into higher-paying roles, corporate cultures have increasingly embraced a mindset of “rewarded overwork.”
And here’s the kicker: the higher you climb, the more you’re expected to sacrifice your time. Employers reward those who push personal boundaries and work longer hours—even in the face of emergencies—while employees who prioritize work-life balance risk being overlooked or sidelined.
Don’t get it twisted. An impactful and financially rewarding career allows us the flexibility and freedom to create a life for ourselves and the ones we love. And being able to do so is such a beautiful and sweet freedom to have and to sit in community with other women who are also doing it. But because of these extreme demands of the workplace, the pressure to always be on and available is unavoidable. And for most women who don’t (let’s be real, most likely can’t) go down to a one-income household, they do have to work and earn more money because in the words of the “The Rent is Too Damn High” political party (IYKYN), “the rent is actually too damn high”. So is daycare. And parental leave (sorry folks it isn’t always paid). And groceries. And back to school supplies. And medical co-pays. And family vacations. And college. And medical bills. And airfare. And saving for that family emergency or a new roof. And providing for relatives that depend on us. Do you see how this is a never-ending wheel of pressure, long days, and financial dependency on a culture that thrives on toxic overwork? So, is it surprising that at the end of the day, as I was dying, all I could think of was work?
Beyond the financial weight keeping women from pulling away from work during an emergency, there are specific mindsets surrounding success in a large corporation that can be extremely difficult to shed. Imagine you’ve spent years getting all the degrees and pushing for a corporate job. Not just any corporate job, but a job that’s going to make the time and energy spent on that degree: worth it. And because you’ve now got the nice job, you’re going to want to keep growing financially and professionally because you might want to do things in life like taking on new hobbies, starting a business, look even more desirable on the marriage mart, renting a bigger place with no roommates, paying off some of your debt, sending money back home to your relatives, maybe even starting a family.
So, you read the room and start putting in the hours at work because that’s what the room and corporate ethos tell you is the only formula for career growth. And you believe it because everyone else working on a different formula doesn’t seem to be succeeding.
Along the way, you also want to get married, most likely to another ambitious high achiever. Or you might want to start a family. Starting a family brings a different level of caretaking that requires, you guessed it: time. Women are usually the ones who take the time off for doctor appointments, school events, meal prep, parent-teacher conferences, and sick days. But today working moms spend as much time with their children as stay-at-home moms did in the 1970s, and they’re usually doing it without the very real and necessary “it takes a village” support. But remember: we’ve read the room. Our corporate workplace cultures don’t reward any other mindset of success except one that involves giving up more time. We all hoped that the positive workplace culture changes post-COVID would stick around permanently. But with more and more corporate workplaces calling workers back to physical spaces, resisting internal policy changes that align with societal changes, and limiting innovation that kills creativity, it’s clear that infusing a more flexible and compassionate beat into the corporate rhythm was a pipe dream.
Many critics will say that women just need to do a better job of negotiating their salaries from the beginning and seek out jobs that have better benefits. Those arguments focus on the women’s efforts and don’t address the larger systems that keep employees trapped in a cycle where their ability to meet basic needs is tied to their continuous employment. The real issue isn’t that women aren’t trying hard enough—it’s that our institutions were never designed to support anyone stepping away, forcing women to carry the impossible weight of managing life’s most critical moments within rigid, outdated systems about promotions, flexibility, pay equity, communication, and creativity.
Other critics will say, “but wait with clients and teams all over the world, some employees need to be on all the time: they’re way too valuable to have #noresponseafter5 as their email signature”. But many companies (Vynamic) and some countries (France and Belgium), have implemented effective no-emails after-work policies, that either give employees one night off from emails and calls, allow for companies over 50 employees to negotiate with employees when they can be contacted, or even outright granted employees the right to ignore emails after work hours.
So, what can be done? If our decisions during a personal life event come from our subconscious understanding of our productivity culture, then we gotta feed our subconscious new radical thoughts that it, in turn, normalizes. We gotta normalize taking a step back because of life events. Imagine if your boss, manager, or even other professionals openly announced that they were stepping away from a project because “I need time to grieve” or “my parents are ill”. When the people above us who’ve successfully climbed the corporate ladder model this behavior (including staying away from the inbox) it would set a new human standard for how to behave to get to the top and how to behave once you’re there.
When I finally gave birth and transitioned to being a NICU mom, my workplace allowed me to be off work for 3.5 months: fully paid (Beth I love you). I then got 3 months of parental leave (fully paid too). But that’s rare. I saw so many parents taking meetings next to their baby’s isolette because they couldn’t take time off from work. Many moms went RIGHT back to work because they wanted to save their maternity leave for when (and if) the baby came home. My son was a micro preemie: I knew I needed to be with him then because it wasn’t guaranteed that he would come home. I would see parents rushing in after work, huffing and puffing, just so they could spend 30 minutes talking to the NICU doctors and just holding their baby’s hand. So instead of offering limited sick leave or bereavement days, workplaces should mandate extended, fully-paid sabbaticals for life-altering events—whether it’s facing a major illness, caregiving, or mourning a loved one.
Our focus on “productivity” has warped our sense of what truly matters, making it feel impossible to step away—even when life demands it. But the moments that define us aren’t found in late-night emails or endless to-do lists; they’re found in the times we choose–and are supported to– show up for ourselves and the people we love.
