The Cost of Calm
The Cost of Calm
“If I appear calm, it’s just a lifetime of hiding anxiety.”
, Chef Brooke Williamson
That line hit me hard.
Because I’ve lived that kind of calm for more than 30 years.
I became high-functioning under pressure, extremely high-functioning. I could stay composed in chaos, make decisions when others froze, and hold teams together while the walls shook.
And for a long time, it worked. The business grew. The people followed. The outcomes looked strong.
But here’s what I didn’t see, being calm doesn’t mean being healthy.
I practiced it for so long that I became desensitized to my own stress. My body didn’t even know how to turn off anymore. I could feel the tension, but I’d trained myself to ignore it.
Years later, after selling my software company, I finally saw what it had done to me. The fatigue. The physical collapse. The anxiety buried so deep it had become normal.
I wasn’t high-performing anymore. I was over-performing under constant strain.
Here’s what I’ve learned, tools every leader can use to fight for their team without losing themselves:
1. Recovery isn’t weakness, it’s responsibility.
If you lead people, you don’t have the option of burning out.
Your exhaustion becomes their instability.
I used to think recovery was something you did after the work was finished, but the truth is, the work is never finished. I learned to treat recovery like a meeting that can’t be canceled. When I ignored it, the cost showed up in my health, my patience, and the quality of my leadership.
2. Boundaries aren’t luxury, they’re survival.
Leaders love to say yes, especially to things that help others.
But the more you absorb, the less space you leave for reflection, creativity, or peace.
I carried the emotional weight of every client and team member. It felt noble. It wasn’t. It was unsustainable.
Boundaries don’t make you selfish, they make you effective for the long run.
3. Calm isn’t strength if it’s killing you.
That quiet composure you’re praised for can become a mask. It protects others from your storms but hides the warning signs from you.
I never stopped projecting calm. Even when my body began to fail, I didn’t recognize what was happening. I thought composure meant control. It didn’t. It meant I’d gone numb to my own limits.
4. You can be strong and still need rest.
Strength isn’t about capacity, it’s about sustainability.
The longer you live in crisis mode, the more your nervous system treats peace like danger.
I thought rest was optional. It wasn’t until I physically couldn’t keep up that I realized I’d trained myself to live in survival mode. Real strength includes knowing when to power down.
5. Find people who tell you the truth.
When you appear calm and capable, no one thinks you need help. That’s why every leader needs truth-tellers, people who can see what you can’t.
It took people close to me asking hard questions about my health and stress before I finally slowed down enough to listen. And it took a trained counselor to help me start unwinding years of unhealthy patterns.
Getting help isn’t a weak move, it’s one of the most courageous things a leader can do.
The calm you project can steady the room, but it shouldn’t cost you your peace.
True leadership isn’t hiding anxiety. It’s recognizing it, managing it, and modeling what it looks like to stay whole while carrying the weight.
Your team doesn’t just need your composure, they need your health, your perspective, and your longevity.
That’s the kind of calm worth practicing.
If any of this hits home, I get it. I’ve lived it.
The next chapter of my work is about helping teams, leaders, and business owners, thru mentorships and consulting, find balance before they break, to lead well without losing themselves in the process.
If you’re carrying too much, leading through constant pressure, or realizing you’ve built calm on top of exhaustion, reach out.
Sometimes a real conversation with someone who’s already walked that road is what turns awareness into change.
I’m building space for those conversations.
If you’re ready to talk, I’m here.
This is your sign to take a first step.
Originally published on Facebook on October 20, 2025.