The Work Behind the Work
I’ve been thinking a lot about the kind of labor that doesn't show up in job titles or resumes. You know, the work behind the work. The way we check in on teammates after a tense meeting. The way we mentally prep for every possible outcome before a big pitch. The way we keep tabs on not just deadlines but emotions, ours and everyone else’s.
That’s emotional and mental labor. And if you're a career-focused woman, I’m guessing you know exactly what I mean.
So What Is It?
Emotional Labor
It’s not just “being nice.” It’s managing your emotions to keep things running smoothly. Being calm when a client’s being difficult. Being agreeable even when you want to scream. Making your tone just soft enough so you don’t sound “too assertive.”
It’s saying, “No worries at all!” when deep down, you’re thinking: this is the third time you’ve handed me your mess.
Mental Labor
Mental labor is the brain load. The invisible checklist that never turns off. It’s the reminder to follow up with a client, the mental note to handle groceries later, the planning, anticipating, organizing, and fixing that we do constantly, often while smiling through a team call.
And when you’re doing all of that in addition to your actual job? It piles up fast.
It’s Everywhere—But Somehow Still Unseen
We’re the Default Emotional First Responders
At work, we’re the ones who notice when something’s off. We send the “hey, just checking in” texts. We remember birthdays, plan little team celebrations, and mediate awkward conversations. Not because it’s in our job description, but because if we don’t do it, no one will.
Decision Fatigue Is Quiet But Brutal
When you're the person always anticipating needs—at work, at home, in your friend group—it becomes a full-time mental load. And no one claps for that.
Walking the Likability Tightrope
This one’s a lose-lose. If we’re too emotional, we’re “unprofessional.” If we’re not emotional enough, we’re “cold.” So we spend our time editing our tone, adjusting our facial expressions, and calculating how to show up just right. Every. Single. Day.
No, We’re Not Making This Up
Some numbers, just for backup:
In a 2022 McKinsey & LeanIn.org study, 43% of women leaders said they were burned out, compared to 31% of men.
In dual-career households, women are still 3x more likely to handle the bulk of domestic and emotional responsibilities, even working full time.
It’s not just “being tired.” It’s a system built to lean on us more heavily, without even acknowledging it.
How This Impacts Careers (and Why It’s Making So Many of Us Rethink Everything)
Invisible Work Doesn’t Get Promotions
The time we spend mentoring, supporting, organizing, and emotionally buffering doesn’t get written into performance reviews. It’s often just labeled as “team spirit” or “being helpful” when, in reality, it’s what’s keeping things from falling apart.
Wanting Leadership, But Not Like That
A lot of us want to lead. But we don’t want to burn out doing it. We don’t want leadership if it just means more emotional expectations without any acknowledgment or support.
Some Women Leave Not Because They Don’t Care, But Because They Care Too Much
I’ve seen this happen (and felt it too). We don’t leave because we’re not capable. We leave because we’re done being emotionally available for everyone while barely being able to breathe ourselves.
A Familiar Story, Even Without Names
We all know someone: maybe it’s a friend, a colleague, or even ourselves, who pour so much into a role that it becomes personal. She goes above and beyond, not just in hitting goals, but in making sure the team feels supported, the culture stays healthy, and things run smoothly behind the scenes. She’s not just doing her job; she’s holding the whole ecosystem together.
But when promotion season rolls around, she’s not seen as a leader. She’s seen as “reliable,” “nice to have,” or “the glue.” And while those words sound like compliments, they rarely come with a raise or a title change.
Eventually, she starts to wonder: If no one sees the value in what I do, why am I still here?
And that’s the quiet breaking point for so many women, not because they can’t keep going, but because they shouldn’t have to without recognition, support, or care.
So Now What?
This isn’t just about venting (though let’s be honest, we deserve that too). It’s about actually shifting things—slowly, intentionally, and collectively.
1. Start Naming the Work
“This week I’ve been supporting team morale,” or “I’ve been mediating some conflict between departments.” Say it. Write it in your self-evals. Make it real because it is.
2. Protect Your Energy Without Over-Explaining
You don’t owe everyone your emotional bandwidth. It’s okay to step back. It’s okay to say no. And it’s okay not to follow up on every “no” with a TED Talk justifying it.
3. Mentor Women to See This Early
When you mentor someone, talk about this stuff. Not just how to climb, but how to protect yourself while you’re doing it. Teach them to ask the questions we never got to ask.
4. Loop the Guys in
Men benefit from emotional labor, too—it keeps teams and relationships smooth. But it shouldn't be a one-sided deal. Call them in, not out. If we’re building new workplace cultures, we need everyone at the table.
Systems Need to Catch Up, Too
Workplaces have to:
Make emotional intelligence part of leadership evaluations.
Train all staff—not just women—to develop relational skills.
Stop relying on women to “fix” broken cultures.
Homes, too:
Share the invisible tasks.
Respect the mental effort behind planning and remembering.
Normalize co-owning emotional responsibilities.
Conclusion
The truth is, a lot of us are tired in ways that don't show up in an email or a Zoom call. We’re not just tired from doing the work. We’re tired of doing the other work—the invisible, emotional kind that no one talks about but everyone benefits from.
We don’t need to be superwomen. We just need our labor to be seen, respected, and shared. Because we didn’t sign up to carry the whole emotional weight of the world while also meeting our deadlines. Success that costs us ourselves isn’t worth chasing. And we’re done pretending it is.
