The High - Functioning Woman
When Strength Becomes a Survival Strategy
When Functioning Becomes Fragile
When the pandemic hit in 2020, my world shrank to the walls of my home and the glow of my computer screen.
I was homeschooling two young children, tethered to endless online assignments that neither of them could do independently.
Leading Operations & HR for a government contractor to a high-profile agency, interpreting new legislation like the CARES Act and navigating mask mandates for essential employees who had to report in person regardless of the global crisis.
I was caring for a family member who’d flown in right before lockdown, and she had more challenges than I realized.
And lastly, I was caring for my older next-door neighbor who had just come home from the hospital after unexpected complications from surgery. He couldn’t eat solid food or drive, and he didn’t have family close by.
I did what most women who wear capes do best: I managed.
Until my body refused to.
When the Body Keeps the Score
My breaking point didn’t come as an emotional collapse; it came as a physical one.
Aches. Fatigue. Dizziness.
Doctor visits, chiropractor appointments, lab work. During the pandemic, I saw more providers than I had in my entire life.
A medical doctor, a nutritionist, and my own body were all telling the same story: You are burned out.
But I still thought I could push through. Until the morning, I passed out from exhaustion.
Of course, I still tried to hang on, now taking IV nutrients and prescription-strength doses of basic vitamins. I bought a stress-management device and used it like it was my job.
But none of it was enough.
I thought I was managing my life, but really, my life was managing me.
When Even the Doctors Miss It
Prior to this, I had started to feel invisible inside my own pain.
I’d go to appointment after appointment, explaining that something wasn’t right—the exhaustion, the dizziness, the feeling that my body was running on fumes—but the doctors kept brushing it off.
I looked too “put together.”
Too articulate.
Too healthy-looking to be unwell.
Eventually, I stumbled upon the most wonderful primary care physician. When I explained my symptoms and how I’d been treated before, she looked at me with compassion and said:
“It’s because you’re high-functioning. Even doctors miss it.”
Her words landed like a revelation.
I wasn’t crazy.
I wasn’t weak.
I was over-functioning so well that even the people trained to help couldn’t see my distress.
That’s when I realized:
High-functioning doesn’t mean healthy; it means silently hurting.
When Strength Stops Feeling Like a Compliment
People would tell me, “You’re such a strong woman.”
They meant it as encouragement, but it didn’t feel like a compliment.
It felt like a reminder that I wasn’t allowed to be anything else.
I didn’t want to be known as strong.
I wanted to be known as soft.
A relaxed woman.
A fun woman.
A woman whose very presence signaled peace.
But strength had become my survival strategy.
And somewhere along the way, I mistook endurance for identity.
The High-Functioning Woman
This is what I mean by High-Functioning.
It’s not a diagnosis, it’s a disguise.
It’s the lifestyle of invisible survival.
We lead. We produce. We care for others, all while quietly collapsing inside.
Our excellence camouflages our exhaustion.
Our peace is performed, not possessed.
We’ve learned to thrive in chaos so long that true peace feels unattainable.
High-functioning isn’t about capacity; it’s about coping.
The Challenges of a High-Functioning Woman
She looks like she has it all together, but beneath the polish is pressure.
She’s often praised for her resilience, yet few realize her strength was born from survival.
Her “stubbornness” isn’t rebellion, it’s residue.
She learned early that if she didn’t hold things together and do it herself, everything would fall apart.
High-functioning women aren’t stubborn because they love control; they’re stubborn because they fear collapse.
They’ve learned to depend on themselves because depending on others has too often led to disappointment or danger.
Here’s what she battles:
She overidentifies with strength.
Her identity is built on being dependable and disciplined. She fears that if she slows down, everything—or everyone—will fall apart.
She performs peace instead of experiencing it.
On the outside, she’s calm and composed, but on the inside, she’s anxious and exhausted.
She’s addicted to functioning.
Productivity becomes her proof of worth. Stillness feels like failure.
She confuses control for care.
She wants to help, fix, and protect, but underneath is a quiet fear: If I don’t manage it, it’ll all fall apart.
She’s surrounded, but not supported.
Everyone leans on her, but few truly see her. She’s the strong friend who rarely feels safe enough to need anyone.
She spiritualizes overwork.
Because she’s gifted and anointed, she often labels busyness as obedience when it’s really avoidance.
She equates vulnerability with weakness.
She keeps her emotions tightly managed, even with God. Her prayers are polished, but her heart feels guarded.
But God isn’t trying to break her strength.
He’s trying to redeem it.
To transform stubbornness into steadfastness,
control into confidence,
and functioning into flourishing.
The woman who once survived by striving
is being invited to rest by trusting.
The Shift: From Performing to Peace
When I finally listened, truly listened, I realized God wasn’t punishing me with rest.
He was inviting me into recovery.
The opposite of high-functioning isn’t low-performing, it’s whole living.
It’s trading control for clarity.
Performance for presence.
For so long, I was chasing balance, but balance wasn’t the problem.
Acknowledging my limitations and aligning my life with them was.
It’s remembering we were never called to carry everything, only to commune with Him.
Closing Words
The high-functioning woman doesn’t need to be fixed; she needs to be freed.
Freed from the pressure to perform.
Freed from the fear of being seen.
Freed from the belief that peace must be earned.
You don’t have to only be the strong woman.
You can be the woman who laughs easily.
The woman who feels safe in her own body.
The woman whose presence signals peace.
You are allowed to be powerful and peaceful.
You are allowed to function from grace, not grind.
Give yourself permission to just be.
And get around women who are living, not just surviving.
✨ Are you a high-functioning woman too?
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Hey Shavawn! Thank you for reading and sharing that. Sometimes just naming what’s been unspoken is the beginning of addressing certain things.