The Breakdown That Became My Breakthrough – Part 3
When You Give Your All... and It Still Falls Apart
There's a kind of heartbreak leadership books don't warn you about.
Not the kind that comes from your own failure. Not the sting of criticism or performance reviews.
This heartbreak is more... personal.
More layered.
Almost invisible to everyone but you.
It's the heartbreak that comes from believing in someone so completely that you start pouring pieces of yourself into their potential only to realize they never planned to meet you halfway.
She Made the Decision. I Carried the Consequences.
The moment I stepped into my leadership role, I inherited more than just a team. I inherited a mess.
Before I even had a chance to settle in, my first battle was already waiting.
The previous leader, the one who quietly exited seven months before I took the reins, made a decision that set everything in motion.
She gave one of our associates the lowest performance rating possible.
What still sits heavy with me is this—she didn’t deliver it.
She made the call and walked away.
No conversation. No ownership. No closure.
She left it for someone else to carry.
And that someone was me.
I Fought for Her from the Zoom Room to the Boardroom
She was already on her way out when I took the lead.
The red flags were there. Already dismissed by others. Mid-year review had her marked as someone who couldn't cut it.
But I didn't see that. I saw someone who reminded me of myself before I had the language, before I had the right support, before someone stood up for me when no one else would.
So I did what I do. What many of us who lead with our hearts do:
I fought for her. With everything I had.
I went to bat.
All the way up the org chart.
Set up the meetings.
Sent the emails.
Scheduled the calls.
I made my case with fire in my voice and conviction in every slide I shared.
I secured the approvals with grace, clarity, and strategy.
I opened doors that had been locked long before my name was ever in the conversation.
I advocated for a review of her mid-year evaluation. Pushed for a fresh start. Gave her grace she hadn't yet earned but I believed, with everything in me, that she would.
And when she looked me in the eye and promised to show up I believed her with my whole heart.
But she didn't show up.
Not really.
She missed deadlines. Disappeared when I needed her most. Turned in work so unfinished it felt like a slap.
And then... went silent. Wouldn't even answer texts.
And I?
I was left holding all the weight.
Not just of her work but of the space I fought to create... and the pieces that broke inside of me.
Because when you lead from the heart, you don't just advocate you invest.
You give your name. Your reputation. Your time. Your emotional bandwidth. Your belief.
And when that belief is betrayed... the unraveling happens quietly but cuts deeper than any public failure ever could.
The Unraveling
I sat in my car one night, tears streaming down my face, wondering how many times I'd have to be taught this lesson before it tattooed itself on my soul.
I started questioning everything…
Did I push too hard? Was I trying to fix something that didn't want fixing? Did I see her potential... or just my own reflection?
I wasn't just disappointed. I was undone.
Because somewhere along the way, I confused protecting her potential with carrying her purpose.
And sis, please hear me now with both tenderness and truth:
You can love people to life without dying in the process.
This isn't about withdrawing your heart. It's about protecting your peace.
The velvet hammer of leadership isn't just about being strong enough to fight for others. It's being brave enough to say: "I believe in you AND I require you to show up for yourself."
I'm still learning this. Still learning to hold space without carrying the load. Still learning to lead with an open heart that isn't constantly hemorrhaging hope.
But I needed to say this out loud:
You can lead with heart, and still say "enough." You can advocate fiercely, and still demand accountability. Your softness is not a invitation for others to take advantage.
This isn't about hardening. It's about honoring. Both them and you.
So if you’re in that space — holding the weight, holding your breath, holding back tears — I just want you to know this:
You’re not wrong for caring.
But you’re not required to carry it all.
Let this be your reminder.
You can lead with love and still protect your peace.
You can believe in people and still believe in boundaries.
You can give grace and still expect growth.
Protect your hope.
Honor your heart.
And when it’s time… let go without guilt.
Because saving someone else should never come at the cost of losing yourself.
For the leader who gives her all…
💬 Reflection Prompt: Have you ever fought harder for someone than they were willing to fight for themselves? What did it cost you? And what would it look like to still love deeply without letting that love leave you empty?
You don't owe anyone your depletion. The same heart that reaches out to save others needs saving too.
Still becoming, still learning, still leading with heart,
Yana, The EXITpreneur
🔒 For The Next It Circle Members:
🧡 Voice Drop this weekend: A prayer + journal prompt for leaders who are grieving what they gave away. Because when you care deeply... it cuts deeper.