This website uses cookies

Read our Privacy policy and Terms of use for more information.

For years, I told myself that the biggest mistake of my career was caring too much.

I left my last corporate job in 2018, in a state of burnout. It took some time, space, and reflection before I made an important realization: that I cared too much at work. Too much about my job, too much about the customer, about creating products with real-world value. Too much about organizational culture and the wellbeing of my coworkers.

This story made sense because I kept ending up in the same cycle: frustration, cynicism, anxiety, and defeat. I imparted this hard-won insight with peers and strangers, on podcasts and webinars, in essays on LinkedIn, and it resonated. Just care less and about fewer things, I told people, especially the stuff you can’t control. Protect your energy, because it’s just a job.

The mistake wasn’t the caring itself

I wasn't wrong, but I was only half right. The mistake was expecting my workplace to care about the same things.

I constantly hit my head against the wall trying to convince the decision-makers, budget holders, and agenda setters to do the right thing for our user and the business. At work, I was known as “highly passionate about the user”, but no amount of passion, persuasion or tactics could sway people to care similarly. This was a pattern across my employers, from my first job out of grad school at a 100-year-old insurance company to a small design agency, a healthcare startup to a major e-commerce platform. 

Caring place #1: My work desk on Floor 7

Caring place #2: my research lab, Floor 9

Misreading the room, ignoring the culture

Trying to live my values in misaligned workplaces usually led to disappointment. I was hired as a user researcher, but under false pretenses; my training in anthropology gave me a firm belief in doing right by people and making their lives better, but it was a non-starter because it would threaten the quarterly roadmap, the KPIs, and the share price. I didn’t want to care just on the company’s terms.

Idealism and internalized pressure kept me grinding on pointless efforts without fruition, and questioning my sense of self when it didn’t work. Why couldn’t I make a significant impact here? Why isn't my work valued? Why am I not valued? They’re not letting me live up to my potential!

My job, values, and identity were too intertwined. I knew it was time to leave when I kept saying, out loud, to myself, my friends, and my coworkers: “I am wasting my literal life here.” This is not a paraphrase.

We see the possibilities

This is the story of so many people who arrived at work wanting to do right by customers, coworkers, the public, whoever would be affected by the outcomes of their work. From the federal government and non-profits to academia and the private sector, we have a clear vision, but we aren’t always able to pursue it. At minimum, we can chip away at the façade while our bosses tell us to just try harder, without any support. 

Sometimes the grass is greener, but we’re all in the same drought. A few of us end up in fertile environments where you can make a real impact, but that seems to be the exception now. Workplaces that used to have a good (enough) org culture (think: independent design agencies, civic tech, and early Google’s “Don’t be evil” era) have enshittified with the pursuit of endless growth and cooption by political forces.

Data-laden sticky notes from a team workshop. A poignant image for this essay.

Caring more carefully

Fast-forward to 2025: six years of listening to my coaching clients talk through their work challenges and visions for something better has been a crucial catalyst in deepening and clarifying my thinking about our shared needs and challenges.

Care less: this is the advice I used to give, the lesson I used to share. The premise is incomplete if it doesn't acknowledge the context that doesn't care about your caring. The way I think about it now is not to care less, but to care selectively, realistically, and intentionally based on what we’re actually capable of influencing. The rest of our energy can go where it truly matters: our friends, families, pets, hobbies, communities, and movements.

Advice to past Amy, and anyone she reminds you of

If I could give some advice to 2018 Amy, 2014 Amy, or even 2012 Amy, I would tell myself: “your caring isn’t a mistake, but you need to stop giving too much to organizations that have no intention of acting on it, even though that’s why they said they hired you.

I would say: “Amy, you are an anthropologist. You are trained to read between the lines as a participant observer, and now it's time to apply that training in the field (i.e., your job). Learn the culture, the implicit values, and where the real power exists. Notice who decides, who holds the budget, who sets the agenda. Then adapt, and decide how, when, and how much to care. Don’t waste it, rethink your definition of impact, enjoy the small wins.”

If you care at work, and it’s working, then by all means, keep going. If it’s not, and it bugs you, you have some options. Caring is a wonderful character trait that, if applied appropriately, with people who see what you see, will go somewhere. It’s a resource that goes furthest when it's pooled somewhere it has room to grow.

Two of my longtime eBay research participants, with a project they made. As sellers living in the same town, we became friends. Now that’s a caring-based win in my book.

In case you missed it… what’s next for my coaching practice

A while back I shared that my coaching practice is shifting. After nearly six years supporting UX practitioners with job search strategy and career transitions, I'm turning toward what's always felt most meaningful—partnering with experienced professionals who are asking what comes next when their work no longer fits who they are.

The moments I'm drawn to are the ones without easy answers: what to do when your values and work are in conflict, whether the path you're on still fits, and who you are when you make the change.​​

I’m working on this transition behind the scenes now, with an August launch in mind. I look forward to sharing more with you in the coming weeks.

See you again soon!

Thanks for reading. If anything here resonated, hit reply—my inbox is open.

If you find value in my work and would like to support what I continue to build, you can do so here. ☕️

Stay true to yourself,
Amy

Keep Reading