PART I — The Team

They noticed her on her first day.

She was full of life, outgoing, and teeming with excitable energy.

The kind of spark the rest of them had lost somewhere between reorganizations, budget freezes, and the annual performance review cycle.

Her name was Mara, and within a week, she was everywhere.

Emails sent before 7 AM.

Slack threads lit up with ideas.

Process maps she made on her lunch break “just because she thought it would help.”

Fixes to workflows no one asked her to touch, but that definitely optimized the process.

She volunteered for tasks before the rest of the team even finished reading the assignment.

And at first?

They admired her.

“She’s so motivated.”

“She’s a breath of fresh air.”

“She’s got real talent.”

By month three, that admiration began to curdle in their stomachs.

Not resentment.

Not jealousy.

Just… pressure.

Because suddenly their manager started talking about “raising the bar.”

Suddenly, their metrics were compared to Mara’s.

Suddenly, their once-normal pace looked sluggish next to her earthquake energy.

It wasn’t her fault, but it felt like she was rewriting the rules they had been surviving under for years.

And she never slowed down.

Never tired.

Never said no.

Never complained.

Never acted overwhelmed.

Who does that?

When Mara offered to help with tasks that weren’t hers, people said thank you,

but quietly rolled their eyes.

When she proposed improvements in meetings, some team members exchanged looks that said:

“Here she goes again.”

When she stayed late to finish something no one asked for, people whispered:

“She’s making the rest of us look bad.”

And then there were the reviews.

The manager started talking about “initiative gaps,” “discretionary effort,” and “ownership mindset.”

That was a new language.

Language that arrived right after she did.

By month nine, they started to avoid her.

Their workloads had increased.

Their stress had increased.

And here she was, still firewalking across tasks with bright eyes and boundless enthusiasm.

But by month twelve…

She seemed to dim.

She stopped suggesting things.

Stopped volunteering.

Stopped staying late.

She looked tired and grew quiet.

And two months later, she unexpectedly put in her two weeks' notice.

Their manager was taken by surprise.

But the team had mixed feelings, relief to have the bar lowered back to normal, and sadness over the realization that she had actually contributed to some solid improvements. They had been able to tell something was off tho…

PART II — Mara

Mara loved the first day of a new job.

It meant a fresh start.

A clean slate.

The chance to prove herself.

At every new job, she told herself:

“This time I won’t mess it up.

This time I’ll be normal.”

And she meant it.

She really did.

So she hit the ground running, partly out of excitement, partly out of fear of failure, mostly out of adrenaline.

But when she solved a problem, she didn’t celebrate.

The moment she finished, the accomplishment evaporated, gone like smoke.

She was already scanning for the next thing.

Success felt good for about 8 seconds before she was worried she wasn’t doing enough again.

She gave 100% all the time because giving less felt dishonest if she was on the clock.

She stayed late because once she got focused on something, it was hard to break away.

She volunteered because she wanted to contribute.

And every time her manager said she was “exceptional,”

she flinched.

Because she didn’t feel exceptional.

She felt like someone was going to figure out that she wasn’t as smart or talented or educated as everyone else.

When her coworkers’ energy cooled, she felt it instantly.

She always did.

The half-laughs.

The clipped responses.

The polite distance.

The sighs when she suggested something.

The way people stopped looking her in the eyes in meetings.

That’s when she knew this was going to be a repeat of her last job, and she didn’t know why or how to fix it.

She didn’t want to outshine anyone.

She didn’t want to threaten anyone.

She didn’t want to raise the bar.

She wanted to be enough.

Just enough.

But she didn’t know how to be “just enough.”

It wasn’t a setting she had.

By month nine, the mask cracked.

Tasks that used to feel thrilling now felt heavy.

It was becoming difficult to make herself complete, or even start, her projects.

Teams' pings made her flinch.

Meetings drained her dry.

Her focus drifted.

Her confidence dropped.

Her brain, the same brain that dazzled everyone at the beginning,

now buckled under the monotony.

She told herself she was failing.

There was too much pressure, and she didn’t know how to fix it.

So she did what she always did at this point:

She looked for another beginning

And when she submitted her resume to new opportunities, a familiar warmth bloomed in her chest,

excitement, possibility, hope.

Another fresh start.

Another reinvention.

Another chance to finally be the version of herself she kept chasing.

She didn’t notice the cycle repeating.

Not yet.

Because right now?

Right now, she felt alive again.

PART III — The Bridge

The team saw an overachiever rewriting the rules.

Mara saw a ticking clock and a crumbling mask.

The team felt threatened by a new standard.

Mara felt terrified she wasn’t meeting the real one.

The team thought she burned too hot.

Mara thought she dimmed too fast.

They weren’t enemies.

They were living different chapters of the same silent story:

And the people who burn differently often mistake burnout for failure.

Most ADHD, trauma-shaped high achievers aren’t job-hoppers by choice.

They are meteors,

brilliant, fast, unforgettable,

but burning themselves up to stay bright.

Until they learn the truth about themselves and gain self-awareness.

And understand how to advocate for and support themselves in the workplace.

But even then, it’s not easy.

—

If you saw yourself in Mara… you’re not alone.

This pattern isn’t a personal failing; it’s a survival map.

If you’re still stuck in this cycle

— sprinting, burning out, reinventing yourself every 12 – 24 months —

I can help you understand why it keeps happening and how to break it.

I work with people like you to:

• Organize work in ADHD-friendly ways
  
  

• Track wins so your brilliance stops disappearing in your own mind
  
  

• Pace your energy instead of burning it all at once
  
  

• Choose high-ROI ideas instead of drowning in all of them
  
  

• Build sustainable confidence instead of adrenaline-based momentum
  
  

If you’re ready to build a different rhythm, reach out.

We offer personal coaching at Intentionalempowerment.com and would be happy to help.

Leaders & Managers

And if you manage someone like Mara, or you think a new hire might be a Mara, I can help you keep them.

These employees are rare:

brilliant, intuitive, creative, systems thinkers, and naturally strategic.

But without the right environment, they burn out fast.

I help leaders:

• Understand this neurodivergent pattern
  
  

• Coach high-potential employees without overwhelming them
  
  

• Build structures that support focus and clarity
  
  

• Create pacing systems that prevent burnout
  
  

• Communicate in ways that build trust, not pressure
  
  

• Protect top talent from accidentally becoming flight risks
  
  

If you want to keep your Mara,

instead of losing her in 12–18 months,

reach out.

I can show you how to build the kind of workplace where people like her thrive instead of burning out.

__________________________________

This is just one example of how team dysfunction can be represented in the work force. If you need help navigating difficult team dynamics, contact us at intentionalempowerment.com and we'd be happy to provide coaching for individuals or entire teams.

Intentional Empowerment, LLC, building bridges to success across organizations.