Guest commentary: Redefining the climb: Why I stepped off the career ladder

A late-night panic attack in my laundry room forced me to confront the cost of success and redefine what it meant for my life.

BY AMY STRUTT, GUEST CONTRIBUTOR

I was standing in my laundry room in the middle of the night, doing laundry because I couldn’t sleep. My mind wouldn’t shut off. My body wouldn’t rest. And then, while folding a cheerful pastel floral kitchen towel and listening to the hum of the dryer, a panic attack hit.

I was at home. I was safe.

But I didn’t feel safe. Not in my body. Not in my mind. Not even in my own home. That was the moment everything came into focus. Because the truth is, the stress of my career hadn’t just been in my head. My mental health was fraying, my relationships were strained and my physical health was suffering, eventually to the point that I needed surgery. It wasn’t an emergency, but it was necessary and directly tied to the prolonged stress I had been living under. In a place like Iowa, where community, family and showing up for others matter so much, I knew something had to change.

For years, I believed that success was a ladder. Step by step, more responsibility, more visibility, more money, more status. As a woman in tech leadership, a title I wore with pride, I thought I was nearing the top.

I had awards, recognition and a beautiful family with two daughters, a big fluffy dog, a snuggly cat and my husband. I was actively involved in my community, volunteering and investing in my professional development. From the outside, it looked like I had it all. But in reality, the job that once symbolized success had become something else entirely. The leadership environment I was in wasn’t just challenging, it crossed the line into something deeper. My peers and I were shamed in meetings, and I was threatened in private, actions that slowly chipped away at my sense of safety, confidence and well-being.

And still, I stayed.

Because walking away didn’t feel like an option. As a millennial growing up in the Midwest, I had been taught that stepping back meant giving up, and giving up meant failure. Especially for women. Especially for high achievers. Especially for those of us raised to believe that being “good” meant never disappointing anyone.

Eventually, with the help and care of my therapist, my husband and friends who didn’t give up on me, I realized that the cost had become too high. So I made a decision that felt terrifying and deeply humbling, and I stepped back professionally. On paper, it looked like a downgrade. A lesser title. Less status. Fewer of the things I’d spent years working toward. In reality, it was an upgrade in every way that mattered.

My health began to recover, I could breathe again and I found myself laughing — something I hadn’t realized I’d lost. I experienced what it feels like to be supported professionally in an environment where leadership builds people up rather than breaking them down. Most importantly, I showed up for my family again, not just physically, but fully present and joyful.

There’s a concept I have come to love that challenges the traditional idea of careers as ladders. Leadership coach and thought leader Ashley Herd describes careers as quilts made up of different pieces, seasons and experiences, not following a straight line, but coming together to create something beautiful, meaningful and whole.

“Ladders assume progress only moves in one direction. Quilts recognize that growth can come from moving sideways, changing industries, or taking on roles that do not look like the obvious next step,” Herd writes.

For so long, I was focused on the climb and never stopped to ask if I even liked where the ladder was leading. Stepping back allowed me to refocus every area of my life and find alignment with my values. It also deepened something unexpected: my voice. I wrote a children’s book about having the courage to be yourself and do hard things, even when it feels uncomfortable or uncertain. Writing it forced me to practice what I was preaching, and while I wrote it for young readers, the message is just as much for the young at heart. Choosing a different path, especially one others might not understand, requires a kind of bravery we don’t always celebrate, but we should.

Success isn’t one-size-fits-all. It’s not defined solely by titles, compensation or how impressive something looks from the outside. Sometimes, success looks like protecting your peace. Like prioritizing your health. Like choosing a life that allows you to be present for the people who matter most.

And sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is step off the ladder and into your own definition of success.

Amy Strutt is a communications business partner leading executive communications and employee engagement, and is the author of “Brave Bold You,” a children’s book encouraging courage and self-belief. She is active in her community and enjoys yoga, reading and college football.