There is a version of so-called “professionalism” that gets rewarded in a lot of workplaces.
It is not always the wisest or healthiest versions. And it is definitely not always the most human version.
But it still gets rewarded.
It may look something like this:
Be agreeable.
Be helpful.
Be available.
Be low-maintenance.
Do not make it awkward.
Do not make it emotional.
Do not need too much.
Do not say the thing that changes the room.
If this were an elementary school test, you’d get gold stars and maybe a smiley sticker for modeling these attributes.
That may look nice on the surface, but really, this is what wears people out.
I’ve been reflecting on this for a while, and as Pride Month starts, I cannot help but notice the parallels.
As a queer woman, I know what it is to understand, very early, that belonging can feel conditional.
Belong, but not too loudly.
Be yourself, but hide the parts that may unsettle people.
Show up, but don’t show people who you really are.
Constantly having to balance who you are versus who everyone needs to see you as in order to be comfortable is exhausting!
I think a whole lot of people in nonprofit, education, and human-services work know exactly what that kind of balance act feels like, even if it shows up differently in their lives.
Name All That You’re Carrying
A lot of people in helping professions are carrying way more than anyone sees.
And I mean way more.
The overthinking.
The fear of being judged.
The need to be liked.
The pressure to have every answer.
The little voice in your head going, “Was that weird? Did I say that weird?”
You’re the one who can walk into a room and can feel the energy shift before anyone says a word. Someone’s mood changes, and suddenly your nervous system is like, “Got it. I’ll take the lead from here.”
You overexplain.
You try to smooth things over.
You keep yourself controlled.
You hold the room.
You make sure everyone else is okay.
My friend, that is a lot.
That kind of “I’m fine, everything’s fine, please enjoy my professionally polished personality” energy does not just disappear because you made it through the meeting.
It stays with you.
In your body.
In your energy.
In your patience.
In your ability to be present.
In how much of yourself you abandon.
We love to call this professionalism.
Very official. Very shiny. Very LinkedIn-approved.
Listen, professionalism can be a beautiful thing. Respect matters. Clear communication matters. Emotional regulation matters.
But sometimes what we call professionalism is really just self-protection. It becomes the version of you that knows how to be acceptable, helpful, enduring, pleasant, and low-maintenance at all times.
At all times? Whew.
Know this: you were not designed to perform perfection from 9-to-5. You are allowed to be human and still be excellent at what you do.
The Hidden Cost of Being Liked by Everyone
But why, Heather? If I’m good at being polished and professional, why should I worry about peeling back those layers to be more authentic?
The problem is that you get so used to being the stable one, the helpful one, the thoughtful one. Eventually, it starts to feel dangerous to disappoint anybody.
So you explain too much.
You say yes when you want to say no.
You soften your tone before you even know what you think.
You over-rehearse the email to make sure it doesn’t offend anyone.
You replay the conversation.
Or… you just stay quiet when you should be honest.
I get it! I used to do the same thing! But it’s not sustainable. It’s barely even survivable.
When you are busy managing how you are perceived, you have less energy left for the work itself.
I think Pride Month gives us a chance to say that more plainly.
Real belonging does not require you to become smaller, quieter, easier, or more agreeable than you actually are.
Soft Does Not Mean Weak
I think one of the most unhelpful things workplaces have taught people is that professionalism means you can’t be empathetic, deeply and emotionally human, and especially not soft.
No.
Soft can mean emotionally intelligent.
Soft can be honest.
Soft can still be warm without being walked over.
Soft can know how to stay human when the pressure is trying to turn you into a machine.
That is the strength I trust.
Pride Is About More Than Celebration
Pride, to me, has always been more than a celebration.
Yes, give me the joy.
Give me the music.
Give me the “yas queens!”
Give me the full rainbow moment. You know I love a theme.
But Pride is also something deeper.
It is the moment you decide, “I’m not disappearing for your comfort”.
That decision is powerful, and it reaches far beyond who we love.
It’s for anyone who has ever walked into a room and immediately started editing themselves.
Too loud?
Too honest?
Too emotional?
Too much?
Not enough?
Record scratch. Zzt. Who handed out that scorecard?
So many of us have learned how to sand down the parts of ourselves that make other people uncomfortable. We overthink every word. We perform “professional.” We stay likable when what we actually want is to stay true to ourselves.
And here’s the part we don’t talk about enough: That editing costs energy.
When you are constantly scanning the room, adjusting your tone, softening your truth, or rehearsing your response to remain acceptable, that is cognitive load. That is emotional labor. That is performance overhead.
And it adds up.
We’ve mistaken belonging for approval.
But real belonging does not require you to manage how you are perceived at all times.
Pride reminds us that being fully seen is not a liability — it’s capacity reclaimed.
What Real Strength Looks Like
I think real strength looks like this:
Speaking before resentment builds.
Not answering the message right away.
Not treating criticism like a full-body emergency.
Not making someone else’s mood your full-time job.
Saying no without a three-paragraph explanation.
Telling the truth without apologizing for having one.
That is how you build self-respect.
If more people had access to that kind of strength, I think a whole lot more workplaces would feel safer, steadier, and more human.
The June Invitation
So if June is asking anything of you, maybe it is this:
Start noticing where you are still self-erasing to keep the peace.
Where are you overthinking?
Where are you over-explaining?
Where are you shrinking?
Where are you performing while quietly carrying too much?
Practice for the Week
Notice one moment this week where your instinct is to smooth, shrink, explain, or self-edit. Pause there. Ask: What would it look like to stay true to myself without making myself smaller?
If your organization is full of caring people who are tired of carrying emotional labor, overthinking every interaction, and performing equilibrium while quietly running on fumes, this is the work I do. Stress Less, Serve More helps teams gain clarity, improve culture, and build readiness for new situations.
If you’re planning your next all-staff meeting, retreat, or leadership gathering, let’s put this on the agenda.