Navigating Identity & Burnout in Leadership: Practical Strategies for Gay / Bisexual / Queer Latino Executives

Leadership is often seen as a badge of honor, a testament to our hard work, and the time we put into our industries. But behind all the fabulous leadership fame – success, smiles, and kisses on the cheeks—many leaders, particularly LGBTQ+ and people of color—deal with burnout. But this is a different kind of burnout. This burnout doesn’t stem from the regular challenges of leading organizations—it comes from having to navigate multiple layers of our identity in spaces that weren’t built with us in mind. It can feel like emotional fatigue.

What is Burnout?

Burnout is the mental, emotional, and physical exhaustion that arises from prolonged stress and overwork. It’s more than just being tired after a long day; it’s a deep sense of being overwhelmed and depleted. It’s when you’re no longer excited about projects at work. While burnout can affect anyone, us – gay/ bisexual/ queer Latino executives are at higher risk due to the pressure of managing both our personal identities and professional responsibilities in spaces where we are the only one – like us.

When you’re the only ____ in the room, the pressure to perform is on. We can never just show up. It’s the kind of exhaustion that comes from the constant need to prove your worth in spaces that don’t always see you for who you are. It feels like you’re on a stage all the time. Over time, that pressure to perform all the time can lead to full-blown burnout.

Personal Struggles and Burnout in Leadership

Navigating Cultural Expectations

For many Latino gay executives like myself, there’s a unique challenge in balancing cultural expectations with the realities of being a leader in predominantly white, heterosexual spaces. Latino cultures have deeply ingrained values of family, community, and traditional gender roles, which can conflict with our realities of being a gay leader in the corporate or nonprofit world. It makes us question our place in leadership.

Machismo is so prevalent and deep in our Latino culture. It emphasizes traditional notions of toxic masculinity, which further trigger and isolate us.

So how, when and where should we juggle “being Latino/e” and “being queer” while cranking out numbers for the bottom line in spaces that were not built for us?

Up until recently, I was still navigating two personalities: the 9-to-5 Noris and the 5-to-9 Knyko. For those who’ve known me over the years, this is how and where Knyko was born. I needed a different persona to navigate the more fun, social, and gay aspects of my life, while Noris remained the formal, “professional” version. Who would have thought, after all these years, that the real Noris and Knyko would merge into one story? This is why I’m now sharing all of me with you through Noris Knows—no more personas, no more shame – 100% me.

I’ve personally experienced the weight of these conflicting expectations. Growing up in a Latino household, Salvadoran to be specific—even without a father figure—the pressure to embody a certain type of masculinity was never spoken about but always there. As I entered leadership roles in the nonprofit sector, I found that culture to demand a different kind of conformity. The higher I was on an org chart, the quieter I became.

This tension between cultural and professional expectations is one of many things that led to my own burnout and mental fatigue. I wasn’t just tired from the job, and it wasn’t just my bad manager—I was tired from constantly switching between these two worlds that never fully aligned.

I’ve had great work experiences, but I’ve never fully been myself until now that I work for myself. The constant code-switching took a toll on my mental and emotional health, and I see similar patterns with many of the clients I coach today. Overwhelmingly, the culprits are misalignment and lack of support.

The Pressure to Overachieve

As minorities in leadership positions, the pressure to overachieve is a constant reality. We, Latino gay executives, often feel the need to prove our worth twice over—once as men of color in predominantly white spaces and again as queer men of color in predominantly heterosexual spaces. This is what led me to adopt a perfectionist mindset, where anything less than perfect felt like a failure. I wasn’t able to appreciate my progress or journey because I became obsessed with getting perfect outcomes.

I thought overachieving was the only way to survive in spaces I knew weren’t designed for me. Pre-pandemic, I coped horribly with my burnout and emotional fatigue. I didn’t even realize that’s what it was at the time either. For me, unplugging looked like a glass of wine or a bottle “just to be with myself.” But as we know – once you have one – it’s not really you anymore. The actual burnout though made me physically sick and drained. I always had stomach issues. My body was definitely telling me something.

Now, as the Founder and CEO of Noris Knows and Queer Compass, I show up to work as my authentic self, and I expect my clients to do the same. This shift has allowed me to avoid burnout by creating intentional boundaries and incorporating mental health tools like meditation and mindfulness into my daily routine. I also live, or try really hard to live, in abundance. I am no longer chasing, because I know the universe will provide.

The Burden of Representation

When we’re some of the few or the only – queer Latino leader in our industry or organization, the pressure to represent our entire community can feel overwhelming. Every decision, success, or failure may feel like it reflects not just on us but on the larger communities we represent. Oh it’s because he is ____. That feeling is inevitable and at times lives rent-free in our head. This additional emotional labor can add layers of stress, making leadership not fun at all – because it always feels like a game of catch up.

At times, this burden can be unbearable. One such instance occurred to me in 2016. I work at a local nonprofit – and the executive director’s leadership style was the antiquated top-down authoritarian approach. He led by fear. He also lacked good communication and people skills, as well as empathy – which only added to his negative type of presence he had. His leadership style reminded me of a typical toxic macho man – the way he would speak to staff, and the way he would carry himself. He and I never saw eye to eye. On my end, I felt as though he never gave me the time of day. I didn’t feel he ever acknowledged my presence. In my head, I was convinced he didn’t like me because I was gay. Of course no one ever admit to that, but that’s how I felt. I also think that he was used to asserting his power and working with subservient and subordinate individuals and then got me. He led with fear, and had me constantly thinking what did I do this time? There was always something. He’d slam doors or sigh heavily when he was upset. Adding to the already tense work environment.

He and I had an argument and we disagreed at the gala I had organized. IMO he was ego-tripping, and thought I was going to tolerate and not say anything. Needless to say, the next day or so he had a white woman in HR give me the news, that I no longer was employed by them. A story and example of how skinfolk ain’t kinfolk – right? Since then for two years, I carried so much shame around being fired from a job. Making it all about me – thinking what is wrong with me? Why am I having this luck? It must be because I am gay, and so I stopped looking for work at Latino organizations. I was done. I carried this shame for about three years, when I had the opportunity to congratulate him in person on their 45th anniversary.

A similar experience happened in my next role at UNICEF. I was hired and eventually fired by another white woman. My supervisor had the balls to ask me “Do you even like kids?” followed by “It doesn’t seem so.” What she didn’t know about me was that I was planning on adopting. Her comment was hands down inappropriate, and what also added salt to the wound was the fact that she was part of the LGBTQ+ community. Her words killed my motivation to continue working there. She had made up her mind about who I was, and who I wasn’t. As a result, I found myself dealing with burnout from both professional and personal setbacks, including a breakup with my fiance at the time.

These experiences taught me to look for psychological safety in my next job search. I began specifically seeking out LGBTQ+ and people-of-color-led organizations, narrowing my focus to spaces where I could feel a sense of belonging. I couldn’t be the only ___ again.

Recognizing the Signs of Burnout

It’s crucial to recognize the signs of burnout before it escalates to a point where recovery becomes difficult. Here are some key indicators to look out for:

• Chronic exhaustion: A constant feeling of being mentally and emotionally drained, even after you’re well slepts and rested.
• Detachment: When your work doesn’t spark any joy any more. You just work there.
• Irritability: You become easily frustrated or irritable with tasks or people that didn’t normally bother you.
• Decreased performance: Difficulty managing tasks that were once your routine, leading to reduced productivity.
• Loss of motivation: Struggling to find purpose or passion in your work, life. Very little or no selfcare.

Client Insights: Building Trust and Camaraderie

Many of my clients come to me feeling burned out and unsure of where to turn next. One thing I’ve noticed over the years is that we build trust quickly. Part of that comes from being relatable—I’ve been where they are. I know the pressure of navigating identity in spaces that don’t always feel welcoming. But beyond that, I am an active listener and someone who genuinely cares about their growth.

For some, it’s the first time they feel someone is on their team, genuinely supporting their journey. A sense of camaraderie, and knowing that I’m there to help them succeed, makes all the difference. It’s not just about offering solutions; it’s about creating a safe space where they can be – and explore their challenges and realize that they don’t have to carry them like a burden. Instead you can celebrate and thrive in community.

Strategies for Managing Burnout

Set Clear Boundaries: Setting and maintaining boundaries is essential to managing burnout. Without boundaries, it’s easy to work all the time, especially if you work from home. Make sure you have time to recharge, for “me time” and set your non-negotiables.

Lean on Your Support Network: A strong support system can make all the difference when dealing with burnout. Whether through mentors, peers, or communities of fellow Latino LGBTQ+ leaders, having people who understand your unique challenges can be a lifeline. This is why I launched the Queer Compass Leadership Cohort, designed to provide networking and support among Latino LGBTQ+ executives navigating similar paths. Sign up for Cohort 1 here!

Practice Self-Compassion: As overachievers, we often hold ourselves to impossibly high standards. Learning to practice self-compassion—allowing yourself to make mistakes without harsh judgment. You know you gave it your all, so let it go. It is or will be imperfectly perfect.

Invest in Your Mental Health: Investing in mental health can make all the difference. Whether it’s through therapy, executive coaching, or mindfulness practices like meditation, it’s crucial to prioritize mental wellness. As a coach, I make sure to introduce mental health tools like meditation to my clients, many of whom are highly successful, high-strung, on-the-go, and incredibly stressed out. If you’re feeling overwhelmed, consider scheduling a complimentary 50-minute executive coaching session with me to start realigning your professional path.

Reframe Success: Let’s face it our idea of success is very different than our cis-hetero and even gay white peers. We live at a time where inflation is making it harder (but not impossible) to buy that dream house – that we were sold as the american dream. Reframe what success looks like for you. By reframing success to include well-being and personal fulfillment, you can reduce the pressure to meet unrealistic expectations.

Conclusion

Burnout is a real issue for gay / bisexual / queer Latino executives. Recognizing the signs early on and implementing strategies to manage it—such as setting boundaries, practicing self-compassion, and/or seeking support—you can avoid burnout and lead. Leadership is quite the journey, so you better prioritize your mental and emotional well-being, so you can thrive both personally and professionally.

Here’s are some questions for you:

• How long have you been carrying the weight of navigating your unique leadership journey – alone?
• What would it feel like to finally share that burden with others who see you, who hear you, understand you, and who are walking a similar path?

Now imagine being part of a community where you don’t have to hide or adapt to fit in—a place where you can connect with other Latino gay, bisexual, and queer men who not only share your experiences but are also eager to grow with you.

What would it mean for you to lead in a way that feels authentic, powerful, and grounded in your true self?

If this resonates with you, I invite you to join the Queer Compass Executive Leadership Cohort—an exclusive, 12-week program designed for high-achieving LGBTQ+ Latino leaders like you. This is more than just professional development; it’s about building the kind of community where you can thrive. Apply here!