The Heavy Head That Wears the Crown: Navigating leadership, motherhood, and burnout while designing hope for others

Photo Credit: Jeffery Sauers and Wiencek+ Associates Architects+ Planners

Pandemic Beginnings: Isolation and Leadership

My son was born during the height of the pandemic in May 2020, when hospitals were tense, cities had shut down, and fear filled the air. We brought him home to a world of isolation: no visitors, no celebrations, just silence.

At the same time, I was adjusting to remote work and first-time motherhood. With no boundaries between home and office, no breaks, and no help from parents or friends who were stuck in a different country, I  was stretched thin. I was expected to lead teams and deliver solutions while heating bottles between team calls. 

Being an immigrant added another quiet, powerful layer to this journey. Motherhood, leadership, and burnout felt heavier without the support system I grew up with, and my family was oceans away with every milestone unfolding through grainy video calls instead of familiar hands nearby. I learned to build strength out of distance and create community from scratch, but that resilience also deepened the weight of those early years in ways I didn’t fully understand at the time. Performing a little extra, to stay relevant, and be visible as an immigrant on a visa while navigating the complex scenarios, is life pushed the boundaries of burnout. 

Burnout doesn’t arrive all at once. It builds slowly through skipped meals, late nights, and the constant pressure to say yes. I wore my busyness like a badge of honor. But over time, the joy I once felt in the creative process turned into dreading Revit, RFIs, and Submittals. I wasn’t flourishing;, I was just surviving.   

Changing Outlook 

During this period, I was also managing one of the most meaningful projects of my career: Washington, DC’s premier homeless shelter. An 85,000-square-foot facility designed to achieve LEED Gold certification. A facility that does not look and function as a shelter but purposes as a dignified home and beacon of hope for people who are the most vulnerable. 

Every detail was intentional, from layouts that promoted privacy to artwork that echoed EMPOWERMENT and HOPE. One of the commissioned pieces, “The Heavy Head That Wears the Crown,” by a local artist, reflected the emotional weight carried by those experiencing homelessness. It resonated deeply as a designer, mother, and a leader navigating the quiet heaviness of responsibility.  

I was promoting hope and self-healing for our homeless clients by designing spaces that fostered a sense of safety, empowerment, and belonging. Yet, I wasn’t advocating the same for myself. I was pouring compassion into the project, but not into my own life. I was creating environments for others to recover while ignoring the signs that I needed healing too. That disconnect became impossible to ignore. Something had to change, not dramatically, but intentionally! The realization that “I cannot pour from an empty cup” led me on a path of self-care. 

Reclaiming Wellness: Small Steps Toward Self-Care

I began with small steps. I blocked time for walks, even if it was just around the block with a stroller. I started journaling—not about deadlines or deliverables, but about how I felt. I reintroduced boundaries with clients and colleagues, learning to say “no” without guilt. I sought out elements that nourished me: quiet car rides listening to music while the baby slept in the car seat, naps, scrolling on my phone, delegating a small portion of the mental load to my partner and team. Redesigning my makeshift remote office filled with plants and sunlight made my work time brighter. 

The biggest shift wasn’t in my schedule; it was in my mindset. I stopped measuring my worth by output. I began to see wellness not as a reward for productivity, but as a prerequisite for creativity. 

I don’t claim to have mastered self-care. I am still learning and adapting. 

Today: Leading with Boundaries and Grace

I serve as Director of the Architecture department in a multidisciplinary AE firm, managing multinational projects across time zones and cultures. I’m also a mother again, for the second time, to a newborn. Even though the newborn phase is without the pandemic, the struggles remain familiar.  The sleepless nights, blurred boundaries, and the constant juggle between nurturing and leading are very much a constant. But this time around, I give myself more grace.

The demands are constant, and the stakes are higher, and while I wear the crown of leadership with pride, I often feel the weight of it pressing down on me. The truth is, the head that wears the crown grows heavy, especially when it’s balancing deadlines, diapers, and the quiet ache of responsibility. I still work hard. But I also pause. I breathe. I listen to my body and advocate for wellness in every project I touch. 

Burnout taught me that balance isn’t a destination, it’s a daily practice. Even with the crown still on my head, I’ve learned to carry it with more grace and a little less weight!

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