The Sticky Floor I Didn’t See Coming

Early in your career, sticky floors are obvious.

They show up as hesitation. As self-doubt. As the quiet belief that you need to be more prepared before you speak up or raise your hand. So you wait and you watch and you question whether you are really ready.

Then you grow.

Maybe you get a promotion or take on a new stretch project that you knock out of the park. You build your credibility, brick

by brick and you deliver results. And then somewhere along the way, you assume you have outgrown those early sticky floors. That things like imposter syndrome don't bother you anymore, and your perfectionism is what people love about your work.

I thought I had outgrown them too.

But sticky floors do not disappear as you succeed. (If only it were that easy!). No, no no.... these sticky floors evolve with you.

What really threw me for a loop was the sticky floor I did not see coming was momentum.

I stayed so busy I didn't have time to think about what was working and what wasn't. I kept things moving at such a fast pace, it looked like the Tasmanian Devil. I stacked ideas and initiatives and I said YES to everything. I told myself I was being productive, driven, and committed and that I HAD to say yes because this was my career on the line. I think from the outside, it looked like drive and ambition, but what it really was about was

control.

Momentum became the place I hid.

Because as long as I stayed in motion, I did not have to sit with pauses. I didn't have to feel the disappointment that comes when something you hoped for and spent hours on, doesn't materialize. I didn't have to ask if what I was building was still aligned, or whether I was just really good at pushing through. (Spoiler alert- I'm really good at pushing through.)

I did not have to feel unmet expectations. I did not have to face the discomfort that comes when something does not go the way you hoped it would.

Movement kept the disappointment away.

Because when the world around you is still... when YOU are still... the harder questions surface.

In the quiet, you are forced to ask yourself if the promotion actually fulfilled you. (If you even really wanted it in the first place). The quiet asks whether the recognition landed the way you thought it would and if that thing you are chasing right now is because you really want it or because stopping might mean you failed.

For me, progress and movement felt safer than stopping to ask myself if where I was headed was where I really wanted to go. But when I actually did stop, that was when I understood that momentum for me, had become less of a strategy - and more of a sticky floor.

How Sticky Floors Change as You Succeed

If you are new here, sticky floors are the limiting beliefs and toxic behaviors that keep you from reaching your full potential - and we all have them. And for women, when they advance in corporate America, sticky floors stop looking like insecurity and start looking like ambition.

They show up as over-functioning instead of collaboration. They show up as being indispensable instead of supported. They show up as explaining decisions instead of standing confidently in them. They show up as carrying emotional weight that was never part of the job description.

And we take these as failures, when in reality, they are just patterns.

Research confirms what many women already feel. McKinsey & Company has found that women leaders experience significantly higher levels of burnout than men, largely due to emotional labor and role overload. Harvard Business Review has shown that high-performing women are more likely to internalize pressure, turning success into constant self-monitoring instead of self-trust.

Sticky Floors Do Not Mean You Are Broken

They mean you are human (and probably a tad ambitious! Girl you got goals!)

The skill is not avoiding sticky floors. The skill is becoming exceptionally good at spotting them when they show up.

That is why I teach the SNAP method.

• Stop and notice what is happening in your body. A racing heart, tension, anxiety, or shallow breath is information, not weakness.

• Name the sticky floor. Perfectionism. Over-responsibility. People-pleasing. When you name it, you take back agency.

• Ask the deeper questions. Is this thought helpful? Is it actually true, or is it simply familiar?

• Pivot. Choose a different frame. Choose a response that aligns with who you are becoming, not who you were protecting yourself to be.

Let me be very clear - SNAP is not about fixing yourself. It is about challenging the long-term beliefs that we hold quietly in our heads and never say out loud to others. It's about interrupting the pattern you have had for decades to people please, to be the fixer, and to defer to others. SNAP will not fix your sticky floors, but it will make them easier to spot, and easier to move through.

What Changed Everything for Me

A multiple six-figure job didn't eliminate my sticky floors. Neither did a C-level title or all the awards and accolades. The only thing that helped combat these sticky floors was awareness.

Now, when I feel the urge to speed up, take on more, or stay in constant motion, I pause long enough to ask myself this one question:

Am I acting in alignment and leading or am I trying to protect myself from disappointment?

That pause has changed how I show up as a leader, a founder, and a woman who wants more without losing herself in the process.

Why I Built HER Collective 💚

I did not build HER Collective because women lack ambition or capability.

I built it because too many ambitious women are navigating these patterns alone.

HER Collective is a private leadership community for women in corporate America who want to expand their networks, level up their careers, and make more money without burning themselves out in the process.

We coach weekly. We learn together. We name sticky floors as they evolve, so they do not quietly limit what is possible.

Sticky floors never go away.

But you can become incredibly good at seeing them, naming them, and snapping out of them.

And that changes everything.