My Story 

Then I Headed West

Then I up and moved to San Francisco. Why? Because I knew if I didn’t go then, I might never leave Minnesota. Besides, that’s where all the progressive legal work was, and I wanted in on it.

Unfortunately, it was 2001, and the dot com bust meant lawyers were being set loose from their jobs by the hundreds, so I waited out the storm as a sales clerk at Nordstrom. 

Finally (finally!) a solo practitioner hired me to help with personal injury litigation, and from there, I started working for a class action firm representing plaintiffs. I was involved with consumer fraud cases, representing the people against corporations.

But things really changed when I landed my dream job at a civil rights law firm, representing employees in discrimination and sexual harassment cases. This was it! This was where I could make the biggest difference. 

Burnout Sets In

Nine years in, I hit a wall. I didn’t call it burnout because I didn’t know what that was, and even if I did, I, like many lawyers, would have denied it. I kind of thought I was having an existential crisis. I was wrestling with big questions—what am I doing or meant to be doing? This can’t be my purpose. 

But there were other symptoms: I was becoming cynical about my cases, about the business itself. I was feeling less empathetic toward my clients. I almost couldn’t muster the energy to care the way I used to. No one else would have noticed it, but I did. I was checking the boxes, just trying to get through. 

At 35, my body was falling apart. I knew I wasn’t taking care of myself. I wasn’t sleeping well or exercising, suffered migraines, started to show symptoms of disordered eating. It wasn’t good! Most nights you could find me on the couch with a carton of ice cream watching Sex and the City. 

I assumed, like many do, that the job was the problem. So, I quit. 

Why Quitting Wasn't the Answer (But Coaching Was)

Leaving my job didn’t help. Not in the way I thought it would. Though that is where an entirely new journey began. I went on what I call my Eat Pray Love adventure—four months traveling through Thailand, Nepal, India. What I was moving away from, or toward, I wasn’t sure. 

Then I met someone who had been a lawyer like me, and was now a coach, and it piqued my interest. So I took a class—and an entire new world opened up for me. What was this magical place? Where people cared about their feelings and their futures, their bodies and their lives? A life beyond the brain and billable hours. It was incredibly exciting. 

The rest is history: I became a certified coach, and began coaching women on career transitions, then a few years later, moved into helping women negotiate in the workplace. 

So That's What Burnout Is

Then this happened: During the pandemic I watched all these videos of women talking about what it meant to be burned out—and found tears running down my face. 

That was me. 

I recognized right then that this is what I’d been struggling with—and also the common thread running through all of the coaching work I’d done. Burnout was the invisible string tying all of my work together, only I hadn’t seen it until now. 

All the symptoms of burnout: Loss of meaning, inability to make decisions, overwhelm and stress, a lack of faith in our own worth and value — it all made sense that burnout was at the root of it, and the cause of untold issues for professional women. I just hadn’t connected the dots before.

Like me, my clients had been searching outside of themselves for solutions, to address the pain they were feeling inside—none of which could or would ever provide it. They needed what had helped me: The insight and tools to shift the way we saw the problems themselves, rather than hope a junk drawer of tactics would do the trick. 

Returning to My Roots

Over the past decade or so, I have changed pretty dramatically, and have a whole different relationship with myself. I have become more compassionate and forgiving; I have my own back. I am allowing myself, finally, to become fully human. I’ve also become a better partner and parent. 

And—I’ve returned to my roots, with a sole focus on helping women in law recover from burnout so that they can thrive in their lives and their work. I did it, and I know they can too.

Today I live in Berkeley, CA with my two kids and my husband. And if we’re not home, we’re probably out camping somewhere, which is something we love to do. 

If this story rings for you, know that I see you—and I can help. I hope you’ll get in touch.