The Golden Handcuffs Are Off

After 16 plus years in public service, I officially resigned on Friday, January 17, 2025.

For those who've followed my journey, you know from a previous post that I left my position in March 2024. You might not know that I was taking an extended leave from Government. The path to this decision started much earlier, rooted in a complex relationship with work, mental health, and authenticity.

When I became an Executive, I made a conscious choice: as a white woman who thought I had faced few career barriers, I decided to use my platform to champion disability rights and psychological safety in the workplace. I opened up about my struggles with anxiety, grief, and post-traumatic stress disorder. As a speaker for the Federal Bureau of Lived Experience, I connected with hundreds of public servants who resonated with my story. I was often told I was brave for being so open.

Yet many days I felt like I was living a double life. While I excelled at work—being recognized and rewarded for my accomplishments—my personal life was unraveling. Work became my refuge, the one place I didn't feel like a failure. I convinced myself I needed to keep working, pouring almost all my energy into maintaining my high performance. This left me drained, with nothing left for my family. The realization that work was getting the best version of me was devastating.

The warning signs became impossible to ignore. In June 2022, days before my 40th birthday, I ended up in the emergency room after falling from an 8-foot ladder during a panic attack. Though I escaped with only bruises and a mild concussion, it was a clear signal that things were spiralling out of control.

I had made several attempts before to "get things under control" but had failed. I knew something needed to change.

I planned to push through the summer and take a brief mental health leave in September before supporting my husband through a scheduled surgery. September came and I went off work only my husband's surgery ended up being delayed an additional two months after I started leave. There was no escaping the truth: this leave was about my burnout more than it was about supporting my husband.

In coaching, I often tell my clients that the best way to close the gap between who you are today and who you want to be is to show up as that future self right now. It was time to eat my words. With my leadership's support, I chose radical authenticity. I emailed my team about my burnout and wrote an article for our Branch newsletter as the Champion for Mental Health. This transparency changed everything.

What I thought would be a few weeks' break turned into a six-month journey of self-discovery. My husband and I now joke that I was off before him and went back after him—and he was the one who had open-heart surgery! That time was life changing. During those six months, I learned who I was, how to tune into my needs, and developed a healthier relationship with work by understanding my values.

When I returned in 2023, I had many advantages—a supportive boss, an excellent management team, and flexibility for accommodations. But maintaining work-life harmony as an Executive with a disability proved increasingly difficult.

I want to be clear: I loved my work and my team. We had built something special from the ground up, and I consider our team one of my greatest career accomplishments. However, the bureaucracy and often illogical red tape of government work remained challenging.

Despite implementing accommodations (like cutting back my hours, which only downloaded more responsibility onto my Managers and created guilt for me), the cracks began showing again. As the pressure mounted, I questioned whether I could succeed anywhere in the Government of Canada if I couldn't make it work here, with all these supports in place.

I wrote a post about how the death of our friend Susan ultimately gave me the courage to take an extended leave from Government. I initially focused the reason for my departure on needing to be more present for my daughter, how I was struggling to balance it all and, as a result, was starting to experience burnout again.

In the last nine months, I have had time to realize that the feelings I carried for not being able to "hack it" as an Executive weren't all about me. I spoke to many others since I have left and I have realized that the system is increasingly not working for many people. Managing for compliance versus empowerment, urgency culture, the impossibility of part-time executive work, values misalignment, being celebrated for people-centric values until it becomes inconvenient, everything being a priority, inability to find harmony between work and home life—many are similar situations.

For me, the answer was clear. After numerous attempts to make it work within Government, I knew that it was time to go. I have the privilege of having a husband that has a secure job, health and retirement benefits (yes, he is a public servant) so I could take the risk.

Submitting my resignation letter brought the greatest feeling of relief I've ever experienced. I haven't had a moment of regret. I even feel like I'm kind of a rebel. Not many leave the public service before retirement, given the generous benefits and security. I get it. For me, the cost of staying was higher than the price of leaving.

I genuinely believe in public service. It is important work. The people that I have met over my career are some of the best and brightest. People who care about what they are doing. I still hope that I can find ways to help from outside of the system.

I'm deeply thankful for those who guided me through this transition. Their wisdom was invaluable. Above all, I'm grateful to my husband, who has supported me every step of this journey.

The golden handcuffs are off, and I'm ready for what comes next.