When hard work stops working

There comes a moment in your career when the work ethic that got you here stops working. You’re still capable. Still competent. But the grind doesn’t give you the same results—or the same pride—that it used to.

This article is for people in their 30s and 40s who are questioning what “hard work” means now. Whether you’re trying to transition out of a physical job or step into a more intellectual or leadership-based role, this is for you. Because at some point, you realize:

The rules changed. But no one told you.

Let’s Start with Utopia

Étienne Cabet was a 19th-century French reformer who dreamed of a perfect society. He wrote a utopian novel called Voyage en Icarie, where everyone shared property, worked hard, and no one got rich. The dream was equality, moral order, and community.

Cabet was so committed to the idea that he convinced a group of followers to leave France and establish a colony in—of all places—Nauvoo, Illinois.

At first, the experiment thrived. But when Cabet returned to France briefly to settle a legal dispute, something shifted. When he came back, expecting harmony and discipline, he found something else: people being human. They were chatting at work. Taking breaks. Smoking tobacco. Even going for drinks.

None of it was scandalous. It was just ordinary. Creating utopia is hard work. Creating someone else’s utopia while they enjoy the credit from across the ocean? Even harder.

History is About Tired People

When I was young, history was all names and dates. Big moments. Big players. Good guys and bad guys.

Later, in university, I learned to pull those stories apart—to question power, look for nuance, and ask: what’s missing?

But the most useful thing history teaches us isn’t who was right or wrong. It’s this:

History shows us how people behave when they’re tired.

How they hold systems together they didn’t build. How they find resilience inside broken structures. How leadership either shows up—or disappears.

And one of the patterns we see in history is this: change happens slowly… and then all at once.

So if things feel stagnant, overwhelming, or impossible right now—don’t assume it’ll always be this way. The tipping point comes. And when it does, everything can shift faster than you think. Even when things feel stuck, they won’t stay that way.

The Work That Stopped Working

A while back, I worked in a bike shop. It was physical, fast-paced, and satisfying in a way. I liked doing things.

But over time, I noticed something: I had no energy for anything else. I’d come home too tired to pursue my creative work, too foggy to ride the very bikes I helped customers buy.

Meanwhile, I watched 20-year-olds spend their paychecks on gear while I thought, “Why would I spend all that money on a bike I’ll never ride?”

I wasn’t weak. I was just somewhere else in life. The same work that used to give me purpose had started to drain me.

A Client at the Crossroads

Recently, I worked with a client who brought all of this into focus. She’s 42, working in private school admissions. Officially, her job sounds simple. In reality, she’s caught between two directors, stretched across three departments, with zero clarity and maximum responsibility.

She’s responsible for everything and in charge of nothing. And she’s tired.

We mapped the options:

1. Suck it up. Ride it out. Hope for better leadership next year. Dial it back emotionally and try to survive.

2. Quit. Take her talent elsewhere. Find a role where the job and the pay match the actual work.

3. Redefine the role. Recognize that what she’s doing is already leadership—and ask to be treated, paid, and respected accordingly.

That last option? That’s the one people miss. When jobs evolve slowly, we don’t always update our self-perception to match. We keep acting like we’re on the edge when we’ve actually moved to the center.

What Business Really Is

Years ago, I worked with someone trying to build a trauma-informed HR program. In my eagerness to help, I started reaching out to my network.

When I told them what I’d done, they were furious. They thought I was taking over. I didn’t get it. I wasn’t paid. I wasn’t trying to lead the thing.

But now I see it differently. I wasn’t helping—I was replicating exactly what they were trying to change.

Because impact > intention.

And that’s what work often is: misunderstood. Emotional. Shaped by history. And yes—personal.

"It’s not personal, it’s business" is a lie.

Business is personal. It’s people trying to get things done inside systems that reward power and punish exhaustion.

So Where Do You Find Your Power?

My client told me: "The head of school basically said, 'If I drown next year, I’m not doing my job well.'"

What do you do with that?

Do you hear it as: “Figure it out, I don’t care”?
Or: “You’re capable. I believe in you. Be the leader you already are”?

That interpretation is the work now. That’s the hard work—the invisible kind:

• Learning to lead without a title.

• Knowing when your effort is being used, and when it’s being recognized.

• Giving yourself permission to want something better.

If you’re in a physical job and starting to wonder if it still fits— you’re not alone. You’re not lazy. You’re just ready to evolve.

If you’re in a messy middle role—doing the work of a leader but not being treated like one— it might be time to redefine what your job really is.

Either way, the story is still being written. And you get to help decide what happens next.