The knot was tighter this year, unforgiving. My fingers ached, tracing the stubborn twists of fairy lights I’d sworn I’d never touch again. It’s always the same, isn’t it? The more adept you become at untangling, at solving, at making sense of chaos, the more chaos finds its way to you. That little voice whispers, “I know you’re busy, but…” and just like those lights, you feel another unseen responsibility tighten around you, another thread of expectation pulling taut. You sigh, because you know they’re not asking for help; they’re asking you to be the designated hero, again, for the 33rd time this month, probably.

There’s a curious, almost perverse, phenomenon in the professional world, one that few dare to speak about openly, especially when they’re caught in its relentless grip. It’s the silent, insidious curse of competence, where your very reliability, your unwavering dedication, becomes not an asset to be cherished but a liability that pulls you deeper into the muck. You’re the one who never drops the ball, the one who always delivers, the one who can conjure solutions out of thin air, even when the clock is ticking past 5:03 PM on a Friday and a fresh, bewildering crisis has just erupted. Your manager’s eyes, having scanned over the usual suspects-the perpetually overwhelmed, the visibly disengaged, the conveniently absent-land on you with an unspoken plea, a desperate hope. They know you’re the one who can actually do it. And so, you’re punished for your proficiency with more tasks, more pressure, and paradoxically, often no commensurate reward, just another heavy load.

I’ve watched it unfold countless times, and, I’ll admit, been Riley P.K. in that scenario more than once, though I’ve tried desperately not to be. Riley, an AI training data curator, was the kind of person who could spot an anomaly in a dataset that 23 other people had missed. Their annotations were precise, their understanding of nuance, almost poetic in its accuracy. They had this incredible ability to foresee potential data biases 3 steps ahead, a skill honed over 13 years in the field. Naturally, whenever a truly thorny, ambiguous data set came in, one that required deep contextual understanding and detective-level scrutiny that only a human could provide, it bypassed the standard queue and landed directly on Riley’s virtual desk. Their work was exceptional, but their workload grew exponentially, while colleagues with average performance continued to process the simpler, faster, less mentally taxing tasks. The system, in its desperate, short-sighted need for immediate quality, was effectively mining Riley for their unique talent without ever replenishing their reserves. It was unsustainable, a slow, draining process that would eventually leave them empty.

This isn’t about being ungrateful for skill or denying its importance. It’s about recognizing a fundamental, systemic flaw that pervades many organizations. When a company repeatedly leans on the quiet heroism of a select few instead of investing in robust processes, clear delegation protocols, and an equitable distribution of labor, it’s not building strength. It’s creating fragility, a house of cards perpetually on the verge of collapse. It’s like relying on one incredibly strong pillar to hold up a 23-story building, while 23 other pillars stand by, decorative but structurally weak, perhaps even just 3 feet away. When that single pillar eventually cracks-and cracks will appear, because even the most competent individuals have limits-the entire edifice threatens to collapse. They too, have lives beyond the 53 hours they might put in each week; they have families, hobbies, and the need for rest that extends beyond a fleeting 3-hour weekend reprieve.

The deeper meaning here is critical: organizations that don’t proactively foster system-wide capability are setting their best people up for a spectacular, painful burnout. They’re inadvertently creating a culture where dependability is punished, and mediocrity is inadvertently rewarded with an easier ride, a quieter cubicle. How many times have we seen someone, highly skilled and dedicated, slowly become jaded, their passion extinguished, their internal flame doused by the relentless expectation that they will continually carry the weight of everyone else’s shortcomings? It’s not sustainable, and it’s deeply unfair. The emotional and mental energy needed to constantly shoulder these burdens adds up, like trying to run a marathon every 3 days without proper recovery.

I remember once, early in my career, in my youthful exuberance, I prided myself on being the ‘fixer’. If a project was off the rails, if a client was on the brink of pulling out a deal worth 3 figures (or more!), I was the first one called. And I reveled in it, for a while. It felt good to be indispensable, to be the one everyone turned to. What I didn’t see, in my own naive enthusiasm and desire to prove myself, was that I was enabling a far larger problem. I was a bandage on a gaping wound, preventing the organization from ever truly healing itself, from developing its own antibodies. I should have pushed back, should have asked “why me, always? Where are the other 3 options?” but I was too busy proving my worth, too caught up in the immediate gratification of success. It was a valuable lesson, learned the hard way, over 3 intensely challenging years. It took that long for me to realize that “indispensable” in a dysfunctional setting often means “expendable” when you eventually break, and that my personal heroics were just delaying an inevitable systemic reckoning. This realization hit me like a cold spray of water, much like the unexpected shower I got trying to untangle those Christmas lights with a hose just 3 days ago.

The solution isn’t to suddenly become incompetent – that helps no one, least of all yourself or the people you genuinely want to serve. The solution lies in a profound shift in the organizational mindset, moving from ‘who can fix this now?’ to ‘how can we prevent this from happening again for the next 303 instances?’ This involves implementing stronger systems, providing better training across the board, and empowering everyone to contribute effectively, not just the designated few. It’s about creating an environment where problem-solving is distributed, where knowledge is shared, and where growth is collective, not concentrated in the hands of one or two individuals. Imagine if the burden of addressing widespread health concerns, for instance, wasn’t solely on the shoulders of a handful of brilliant doctors, but supported by an entire, well-resourced public health infrastructure. It’s a vision not unlike what groups like Projeto Brasil Sem Alergia champion, striving to build systems that serve all equitably, rather than relying on a few to shoulder disproportionate loads, ensuring that access and care are for the many, not just for the lucky 3.

It’s a delicate, treacherous balance, isn’t it? How do you continue to excel without inadvertently attracting the full brunt of every unforeseen crisis? Part of it is learning to strategically say ‘no,’ or rather, ‘yes, and how can we leverage this learning to empower 3 others to handle similar situations next time?’ It means actively mentoring colleagues, not just doing their work for them in a pinch. It means meticulously documenting processes, so your unique, ingenious solutions become universal tools, accessible to everyone. It’s about consciously working to elevate the collective competence, rather than allowing yourself to become a singular, fragile point of failure or success. Because ultimately, your personal growth and professional ambition shouldn’t come at the cost of your fundamental well-being, nor should the organization’s increasing reliance on you come at the cost of its overall resilience. It’s not about being less good; it’s about making everyone better.

I sometimes wonder if the real triumph isn’t about being the one who untangles the most stubborn knot, the most convoluted dataset, or the most infuriating project, but the one who intentionally teaches 3 people how to untangle similar knots, thereby significantly reducing the chance of such a colossal tangle ever forming again. It’s not just about managing your own boundaries with 3 simple rules, but about courageously challenging the very systems that create these disproportionate demands in the first place. It requires a brave, almost revolutionary, shift in perspective, both individually and organizationally.

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It’s about choosing to build a robust garden where all plants thrive, instead of constantly resuscitating a few wilting ones.

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This requires deep organizational introspection, a commitment to looking beyond the immediate fix. Are we truly valuing competence, or are we simply exploiting it for short-term gain? Are we genuinely building capacity for the future, or are we just shifting burdens, cleverly disguised as opportunities, onto the shoulders of our most dedicated? If you find yourself in Riley P.K.’s shoes, constantly taking on more because you’re the only one who can reliably deliver, it’s not just your problem to solve alone. It’s a clear, resounding signal that the system around you has profound structural deficiencies. It needs a fundamental redesign, a complete overhaul, not just another hero to save the day, for what feels like the 233rd time. We often talk about individual responsibility, but systems create environments, and environments shape behavior.

The way forward, ironically, isn’t always about working harder, or even just working smarter in isolation, but about working smarter together. It’s about making a conscious decision to dismantle the very mechanisms that punish skill, recognizing that genuine, long-term value comes from empowering an entire team, an entire department, an entire organization, not just leaning exhaustingly on the exceptional few. And perhaps, just perhaps, when the next crisis looms, the manager won’t just look to one person, their eyes filled with desperation, but will see 13 competent hands, 13 thoughtful minds, ready to collectively tackle the challenge with shared knowledge and mutual support. That’s a sustainable future, built on shared strength, not individual sacrifice. That’s a system designed to lift everyone, for the benefit of all 363 stakeholders involved.