There was a point in my career when I was back in NYC and working at the William Morris Agency (now WME) when I was convinced that I was just one more late night away from being promoted. If I just delivered one more project flawlessly, put out one more fire quietly and stayed the reliable one for one more week, I was in.
I was working hard. Like, really hard. The kind of hard where your life calendar is empty because your work calendar is too full, your Slack never stops, and people trust you with everything because you always say yes and you always get it done. And yet, nothing moved for me.
I remember sitting at my desk one evening, laptop still open, thinking, “If they can just see how much I’m doing, they’ll have to promote me, right?” You can interchange this with, “If they just see how hard I’m trying, how much I’m sacrificing, how fill in the blank here, then I will get what I deserve.” That was the logic. Effort equals advancement and exhaustion equals readiness.
It made sense to me because that’s how I was raised in my South Asian immigrant household. Keep your head down, do good work (it better be better than everyone else), don’t complain, don’t ask for more and someone will notice.
Well, the truth, and I learned this the very hard way, is that someone rarely does.
What I didn’t understand back then is that being overworked is not proof that you’re promotion-ready. It’s often proof that you’re very good at your current job and very unclear about your next one. I worked in HR and so I was in the rooms when promotion decisions were being made. “Who is the busiest?” is not the question being asked. The question that everyone is trying to solve for is, “Who can operate at the next level?” Those are not even remotely the same thing.
I see this all the time, especially with high-performing first and second gen professionals. We’re the dependable ones, the safe ones, the ones who get handed more because we can handle more. We become essential where we are, which feels flattering until we realize it’s also keeping us stuck.
Over time, the job quietly expands. More responsibility, same title, same pay. And we tell ourselves, “This is good. Growth is happening.” But growth without direction is just more work.
I used to think being promotion-ready meant being indispensable. Also not true. Also learned the very hard way. What I eventually learned is that promotions don’t go to the people who make themselves indispensable in the role. They go to the people who make it clear they’re already thinking beyond it.
That shift is uncomfortable. It feels a little arrogant. Who are you to act like your manager or better yet, your skip? It means pulling back from pure execution and starting to show judgment, talking about impact instead of effort, risk being seen instead of hiding behind productivity. And yes, that can feel scary - because it is, especially if you’ve been taught that asking for more, naming your ambitions, or stepping out of line makes you look ungrateful or arrogant.
But here’s the thing. If you’re exhausted, resentful, and quietly hoping someone rescues you with a promotion, that’s a signal. Not to work harder but that you need to change how you’re positioning yourself.
Promotion-ready doesn’t look like burnout, being overly accommodating or being intensely reliable. It looks like clarity. Clarity about what level you’re operating at, the value you bring, and where you’re going next.
So if this week you’re feeling stretched thin and telling yourself, “Once this dies down, then I’ll focus on my growth,” pause and ask yourself one honest question. Am I actually being prepared for the next level or am I just being used at this one? If something clicks when you ask that, you’re not alone. And you’re not behind. You’re just at the part where working harder stops being the answer.
I’d love to hear - where are you and where do you ultimately want to be? I really do read every reply.
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Minal