A state agency manager was handed an AI rollout she didn’t design, and her team stopped engaging. The turning point was one question she hadn’t thought to ask them. Originally published by The Athena Group: The Question No One Budgeted For.
Cindy is a contributing writer and subcontractor with The Athena Group.
Every decision passes through a chain of people and tools, and each link can quietly add an assumption. With AI showing up in daily work, often before any policy does, leaders need to know where their confidence actually comes from. Originally published by The Athena Group: Who’s In Your Trust Chain?
Cindy is a contributing writer and subcontractor with The Athena Group.
Tech modernization projects rarely stall on the technology. They stall on the questions no one asked early, when changing course was still cheap. This piece looks at how coaching helps leaders surface leadership debt and friction before it turns into rework. Originally published by The Athena Group: Future of Work: How Coaching Can Support Lifelong Adaptation for Tech Leaders
Cindy is a contributing writer and subcontractor with The Athena Group.
Burnout rarely starts with a personal failing. It starts with signals we’ve learned to fight instead of read, inside systems that were never built for everyone. This chapter from Empowering Women in STEM: Building a Culture of Resilience is shared here in full.
I shrank. My head started pounding, my stomach twisted into knots, and I stared back dispassionately as if nothing had happened. I was at a team event with about 50 people – and once again I was the only woman. The speaker, a coworker, started off with “Gentlemen.” Then a long pause as he pivoted his entire body toward me. “And Cindy.” He made it clear to the whole room that I was the “other” – different, wrong, broken. I felt both invisible and hyper-visible. I could feel every person in the room spend a second contemplating me and how I didn’t fit, then dismiss me as irrelevant. I knew a few of my friends would pity me – we had talked about how this person propped up his own confidence by belittling others – and that wasn’t any better. No one protected me, no one made it clear he couldn’t treat me that way. I felt unsafe, off-balance, and broken. It was the latest in a string of blows that made me feel like I had no path forward. I felt like I was growing smaller and the distance between me and the others in the room grew exponentially. I mentally slumped in exhaustion.
The thought just wouldn’t leave – I was broken. There was no other way to explain it. I was disappearing in plain sight. Every day I was frustrated, exhausted, making mistakes. With every failure I would add a piece of armor, another way to distance myself from the people telling me I wasn’t doing it right. The distance also created procrastination – why start things that were destinated to fail painfully? I tried to get everything perfect – with no clear idea of what that looked like. I felt incredibly lonely – if I let people in, they would see how broken I was and that would make me feel worse. I wanted to fight the dragons in front of me – the people, the system, the bias.
My reaction was to overprepare. My emails and documents became impenetrable walls of text that showed I was competent and had thought things through. I avoided confrontation so others would like and support me. You’re all familiar with this, right? It’s the well-documented competence-likability paradox that women face – the double bind that it’s hard to see women as both competent and likable. I knew I was competent, so I felt I needed to become more likeable. My manager even told me that one of my top criteria for a great review the following year was to get a manager on a partner team to like me.
Another year, a different manager put on my review that I was abrasive. I reached out to a coworker who thought I was joking and told me I was by far the least abrasive and most diplomatic person on the team. Again – the double bind. And it was all exhausting. I was burning out.
I blamed myself for the truth behind their messages – I wasn’t performing up to the level I knew I could. Again – I felt broken.
What I would tell my younger self, with the wisdom of my experience, is that I had internalized the leadership friction in the system as personal failings. I wasn’t broken – I was hitting more of the friction than others were because I didn’t fit into the system the same way they did. And it accumulated over time. No system can be built for everyone, and I was feeling the weight of where I didn’t fit the norms and expectations. I was incredibly good at the technical aspects of my job, but I was so exhausted from fighting the system – the friction – that I couldn’t see a way forward. I couldn’t see the system objectively. I couldn’t even see myself anymore. I didn’t know who I was. The friction burned, and it was consuming me.
Of course, my performance suffered because I was spending so much energy managing other people’s emotions. Living like that, for months on end, meant my body started treating every interaction as a threat. Every project, every meeting, I came up with a playlist of things that might go wrong, of confrontations that might occur, and how I could head them off. I was burning out.
One day I walked into a team meeting and announced with excitement that I had two highly qualified women candidates for the open position on the team. My manager’s instant reaction was “we’re not going to lower the bar for them.” Did you hear what I heard? He felt someone had lowered the bar to let me in. I didn’t belong. I wasn’t good enough. No woman could be. And there was no way out.
I want to give that younger version of me a big hug and a pep talk, to tell her to speak up for herself in the moment, but that version of me didn’t have the energy to do that. No one else spoke up for her – for me.
Today I can see that my manager thought “the bar” was a clear, highly aligned set of objective criteria. What I see in most hiring and promotion bars is a confusing mess of ambiguous and often hidden criteria that are unevenly applied. I no longer think of it as a bar on a chart and more like a winding, twisty mass with some spots shaped more like a white man than anything else. It’s easier for some people to get through that bar not because they’re more competent but because they look and act like whatever part of the bar the hiring manager is attuned to. No wonder so many women burn out and leave the tech industry after 15–20 years.
I gave myself permission to pause, grieve, and build a new map for myself. I took the space to discover and internalize new ways of leading and being. I built relationships with coaches and others who helped me get curious about myself without judgment. I quit my job and went on a discovery journey.
Instead of thinking of all these dragons I needed to fight – my inner critic, my depression, the burnout, the bullies, the tech industry, individual people, and teams that I’d worked with in the past – I worked to separate the signal from the meaning and the meaning from my actions. Those dragons give us signals we can use. That’s what I call Befriending Dragons™. When we spend our energy getting curious, intentional, and insightful, we can navigate the systems around us with authenticity and clarity – without burning out. The friction becomes a signal instead of fuel on the fire. We redirect our flame, our roar, our energy from an all-consuming inferno to a life-sustaining warmth.
Our dragons are not monsters to be slain. They give us messages and stand with us when we need them. They are our power. Dragons are our hopes, dreams, and fire – sometimes disguised as fear, criticism, or hopelessness. When we befriend our dragons and deeply listen to their signals, we can lead ourselves and others with self-trust and courage.
As I figured out the next phase of my work life, I got truly curious about everything in and around me. I let go of the need to know the outcome in advance or to jump straight to action. I learned to stop thinking that I, other people, or systems need to be fixed. Because none of us are broken. Let me say that again. I’m not broken. You’re not broken. The system is not broken.
The system works as designed. It works differently for different people, and it funnels resources and energy where it’s designed to do so. When we make space to map out the system and the friction points within it, we can navigate it differently. We can apply our energy where it makes sense for us. We can use that to build our influence and impact, to be rewarded for the work that matters to the organization. Clarity through this mapping is how we step out of overwhelm and into sustainable work. Friction isn’t failure, it’s feedback about the system.
We need maps of ourselves – our own internal compass – and maps of the systems around us. Then we can see the friction points and have more choices in how to show up and what work to do. I collect those in a Leadership Navigation Playbook™. I’ll share some of the tools that are in my playbook.
Start with a Navigation Logbook™. Once a day, write down at least one thing you observed – without judgment – about yourself, others, the system, and the friction points. Once a week, read it out loud to an AI tool and ask it to identify patterns including friction points, energy drains, boundary openings, and impact opportunities. Reflect with friends or in a journal about what you’re learning. This is input into your maps.
There are a variety of ways to learn about ourselves and how others see us. Our Navigation Compass™ indicates how we show up even when the system fails us. What moves you to action? What relationships feel authentic? When do you act from your most authentic self? What helps you see and calibrate to the system? What enables you to see that you’re a person too – imperfect, human, and worthy? Write down anything that makes you feel more or less like yourself.
Popular compass options include values exercises, leadership or personality profiles, and skills assessments. I’m a fan of the Meaningful Work Kit and the Leadership Circle Profile®. They both go beyond a simple list and help you see and communicate the conditions you need to thrive. Compile this information about yourself in a central location and periodically re-summarize it for the person you have evolved into. This helps you “get on the balcony” and see the big picture.
I also recommend building a Personal Language Library™. You know those moments when you come up with the perfect thing to say hours after you needed it? Write it down once you figure it out – situations often repeat themselves. We also have those times where we never figure out what to say, such as stating a boundary with the boss. Be proactive and talk a few key scenarios through with a coach, friend, or mentor. Collect that language to use as needed.
Pay attention to how people and systems work around you. That’s your System Map. What relationships matter? Who has the institutional knowledge that may not be written down anywhere? How are the big decisions truly made? Where are the levers of power and who holds them? What metrics drive the people and decisions around you? What’s hidden – and often wants to remain hidden? When you see “technical debt” – go deeper and name the “leadership debt” that lets it linger. This is how you deepen your understanding of what’s in motion around you and see where you have choices to navigate differently.
As you navigate with intent, track the positive impact you have. Use metrics that matter to your organization and leaders. Know what metrics your boss and their boss need to hit this quarter – track how you can and did impact that. Gather all the data you can find to quantify your impact and collect anecdotal feedback as you go. Give feedback and data to others – many people will pick up on that and mirror the habit, creating more data about the system and nurturing relationships that matter. This impact goes in your Navigation Impact Log™. This feeds your 1:1 conversations with your manager and your performance reviews. Create a cadence to provide a written summary to people with control over your career – start with the impact you had, then what you did and what evidence you have. Keep it concise and focused.
As you see yourself and the system more clearly, start experimenting with navigating differently. How do people react? What changes for you? What impact are you having? How do you feel in various situations? This feeds back into your Navigation Logbook and that continues to feed into your maps.
I’ve spent the last few years working to become the person I wish I’d had back when I was struggling in the tech industry. I feel connected, expansive, sovereign. I don’t feel the need to shrink myself or make people like me. I often feel energized. I rarely give in to doing other people’s emotional labor for them. I replaced impenetrable armor with useful boundaries. I moved from surviving to thriving. I walk with confidence, speak my truths, and create ripples of change in the world. My fire now fuels me instead of burning me out. I am not broken. You are not broken. We are whole, capable, resourceful, and creative.
Because I see the systems around me more clearly, and I know myself much better, I can identify friction points more easily. I can see, with neutrality, when bias like a double bind shows up. I can see when what’s hidden, like a vague success bar, pretends to be a clear metric. If someone calls me abrasive, I can read it as a signal that there’s friction in the system, not a truth about my character. That means I spend less energy fighting and can focus on what’s useful and impactful. I make choices, I navigate with intent, and I iterate as long as it’s useful. I befriend my dragons with curiosity, intent, and ease so they walk beside me and I don’t feel the need to fight them.
I’ve put together the mindset, tools, and structure that I believe would have let me thrive in my high-paying tech job. It was a rough road for a while, and I’m here on the other side. I’ve built my maps, made choices that feel aligned, and led myself and others in ways that feel sustainable, joyful, and impactful. I wish you the same on your journeys!
Cindy Gross coaches high-capacity women in tech to stop absorbing the friction and start navigating it. After 25 years in enterprise technology, including 18 at Microsoft, she brings technical fluency and human insight to burnout recovery and sustainable leadership. She is an ICF-credentialed coach (PCC), a certified Leadership Circle Profile® practitioner, and the creator of Befriending Dragons™.
This chapter first appeared as Chapter 23, “Befriending Dragons: From Burnout to Confidence,” in Empowering Women in STEM: Building a Culture of Resilience (CRC Press, 2026). DOI: 10.1201/9781003712589-33.
Ready to map your own signals?
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