How to name the roles you've absorbed, and give two of them back

You're not worn out because you're weak. Your exhaustion makes sense, since you're covering three positions while only one of them shows up on your paycheck. Take stock of them. Start with the job title printed on the offer letter you signed. There's the role nobody filled after a colleague walked out. And there's the role no one has bothered to name, where people bring every question to you first because you'll know the answer. Three jobs, one salary, one performance review.

The standard advice is to pace yourself, draw boundaries, and take the time off. That approach tends to fail, because it treats a staffing shortage as though it were a wellness issue. A 2025 Deloitte study of 7,500 women in 15 countries revealed that 36% of them report their stress has risen over the last twelve months. Research for the book The No Club shows women are asked to take on non-promotable work roughly 50% more often than men, and they agree to it more readily. These extra duties aren't a personal failing. They form a pattern, and patterns can be named aloud.

First. The position that disappeared once a coworker walked out the door

The reflex line: "I've got it covered."

A stronger line: "I've been handling the analyst work since March. I can keep it going until the hire is made, but we need to agree right now on which of my own deliverables will slip."

This approach succeeds because the word "covered" hides the labor from view. Naming the role and the month gives it shape and a price, and pushes a decision about where your best hours go. Whether that choice gets made is your manager's call to answer, not something to absorb from your free time.

Second. The project that no official record assigns to anybody

The reflex move: keep running it quietly, since it would collapse otherwise.

A stronger move: "I've been driving the vendor transition on top of my role. Either we add it to my scope, with the title and pay to match, or we assign it to someone whose job it fits."

Why it works: what you keep afloat only becomes yours once someone says so. Until someone formally claims it, you carry the blame for every setback while the credit for each success goes to no one at all.

Third. The informal chief of staff

The reflex move: keep answering every question that should have gone to your boss.

A stronger move: "A lot of people come to me first with things that belong with you. I plan to direct them to you from now on, and I wanted you to learn that directly from me before anyone else.

Why it works: being the person who knows is flattering, and it's real work. Redirecting isn't unhelpful. That move redirects the flow of requests toward the correct path.

Fourth. The performance conversation that opens with how you're holding up

The reflex answer: "Busy, but good."

A stronger answer: "I'm handling three jobs right now. Here they are on one page. Which of these would you like me to become outstanding at?

Why it works: calling your workload "busy" makes it sound like a passing condition rather than a structural problem. A page listing three jobs is evidence. That final question is one your manager ought to have put to you long before now.

Fifth. The kind words that quietly hold you back in your current role

The reflex reply: "Thanks, I'm good at juggling."

A stronger reply: "I am, but I'd rather be excellent at one thing you can promote me for. Which of these tasks could I move to someone else?

This works because praising someone as "good at juggling" rewards the very pattern that is draining you. Thank them for the kind words, then immediately name what those words cost you.

The guiding idea that sits underneath all five

Exhaustion is a description of an individual's state. Three jobs describes an org chart. Once you write down each role with its dates, the issue moves from your personal shortcomings to the structure itself, which is where a real fix becomes possible.

Forward this to the friend who replied "I'm fine" last week when that wasn't true.