The Day I Almost Gave Up and What Brought Me Back (An HR Leader’s Truth)

There was a moment in my HR career when I almost walked away. Several if I’m being honest.

Not just from a job. From the profession I had poured over a decade and a half of my life into.

I had given everything to the role, built departments from scratch, advocated for equity in rooms that didn’t always welcome my voice, and showed up for people even when I was barely holding it together myself.

But one day, the weight hit me differently.

The emotional labor. The invisible expectations. The trauma I carried and the trauma I helped others navigate, all while keeping the organization running smoothly. It was too much.

I remember thinking, Is this really worth it? Who’s here for me while I’m holding space for everyone else?

HR is often seen as the heart of the organization, but no one talks about how often that heart feels broken.

I was exhausted, not just physically but emotionally. I had lost sight of the bigger picture.

Until I remembered why I chose this work in the first place.

I didn’t become an HR executive to push paper or enforce policy. I did it to create safe workplaces. To advocate for the overlooked. To help people heal, grow, and thrive on the job.

I thought back to the women I had mentored, the professionals who had found their voice after years of being silenced, and the organizations that began to shift because someone finally told the truth about what wasn’t working.

That’s what brought me back.

Not the title. Not the paycheck. The purpose.

Now, I lead differently.
From a place of wholeness, not just hustle.
With boundaries, not burnout.
And with deep empathy for the people behind the policies.

To the HR professionals and workplace leaders who are tired, who feel invisible, or who are quietly thinking about quitting—your purpose is still valid.

But so is your need for support.

If you're carrying the emotional load of your role without a safe place to land, I see you. And I’d be honored to walk with you through it.

You deserve a space to process what no one else sees.