Hi, my name is Marissa, and I’m a recovering workaholic. (“Hiiiii Marissa…..”)

In my generation’s terms (Gen-X if you’re wondering), that means I grew up believing work-life balance was something that happened after you surpassed the burnout phase. I legit used to think success meant being needed constantly. Reliability was the biggest compliment that could be received, even if that compliment came at the cost of my rest and my sanity.

I didn’t just “work hard, play hard”; I worked like my self-worth depended on it (because it low-key kind of did).

Inbox zero? Achieved regularly, like it was a competitive sport and I was aiming for first place. I used to refresh my email like it was TikTok or Instagram Reels. “Just one more scroll, let me reply to this last email”, knowing full well it was really just one more hit of dopamine that validated the message of: You’re valuable because you’re always available.

I’ve checked emails at stoplights and answered client texts in the bathroom (don’t judge me…). I’ve told my family to “stand by” while I “dealt with this issue”. That usually meant banging out an email response to something that honestly could’ve waited until business hours. If a subject line read “URGENT”, I believed it, and jumped into action like a data driven Bruce Wayne no matter what I was doing – even if the email was in fact, not urgent, and usually was something trivial like resending an attachment because someone didn’t scroll down far enough to see it originally. Cue headdesk moment.

Cancer broke that spell.

A breast cancer diagnosis will strip away your bullshit hierarchy of importance real fucking fast. Suddenly, those moments of stressing how available you were and showing up no matter what time it was start to look exactly like what they are: moments you traded away instead of living in peace, and you’ll never get that time back. I once told a colleague that cancer is both a thief, and a gift. It will absolutely steal your peace of mine, likely for the rest of your days, but it will gift you perspective.

Here’s the thing though, me being a recovering workaholic isn’t about quitting the grind. I want to be really clear about that. I LIKE to work. I like the challenge of building a strategy and solving problems, and finding new ways of doing things. And I enjoy the art of doing those things well. I don’t need less passion at all; I needed better fucking environments.

When you’re wired to care, and I mean REALLY care, the culture around you for 40 hours a week matters more than anything. A toxic culture will feed your worst instincts and those cultures tend to reward extending boundaries and bandwidth. Those cultures focus on punishing boundaries, and celebrate exhaustion for commitment.

The right culture keeps you grounded and focuses its energy on letting you work with purpose and not being in a state of panic all the time.

Teams that focus on results, while also stressing BALANCE are where people like me tend to come alive. They measure success by your impact – and not by how available you are after dinner. They understand with trust comes results. TRUST, not micromanagement. What a concept, right? These teams have a culture that doesn’t confuse communication with collaboration – because y’all – they are absolutely not the same.

Now I’ll be honest here, the recovering workaholic in me still twitches a little when my chat doesn’t light up repeatedly. I do feel a little guilty when my phone stays face down during dinner. But – I’m working on it and I know what that feeling is now – it’s me unlearning two decades of conditioning saying my value is only present if I’m working.

When I’m at work, I’m fully present. I am focused, I channel that passion. I am 100% ALL IN BABY!

But when the day ends, I walk away. Work is what I do – not who I am.

Who I am is a woman who fought like hell to be here, and who loves her daughters, and her husband, and my goofy ass dogs. And I treasure my fucking peace of mind.

At the end of the day, I still love working. I love leading, mentoring, creating, and building. But I also love my family, my dogs, my quiet, and my damn sanity. I don’t think it’s too much to have both sides of that coin in my life.

And if you can’t have both in your job – it’s not you, babes. I’d be taking a strong peek at the culture.