When the fire burns out: the true killer of a high performer
High performers don’t usually struggle with challenging projects or a lack of time—at least, not always. This type of employee and entrepreneur thrives under pressure, and when channeled correctly, that drive can actually be quite healthy. The critical difference lies within a classic French question: “Is the game worth the candle?”
***A note on the origin: This phrase stems from the historic French idiom "La Bourgogne vaut bien una messe" later evolving into “Le jeu ne vaut pas la chandelle" (the game isn't worth the candle). It dates back to a time when playing cards at night required expensive candles; if the stakes of the game were too low, the winnings wouldn't even cover the cost of the wax.***
In leadership, it means asking yourself: Is the prize worth the energy you are burning to get it? Indeed, the true killer of a high performer is a lack of clear purpose, a missing motivation behind the battle, and a vacuum of clear responsibilities and expectations.
I realized this about myself after a long period of introspection. First, I had to untangle my identity from pure performance—the kind that is bound to constantly proving one's worth. Once I did, I accepted that yes, I genuinely love challenges and pressure, and that it is okay to be wired this way.
If you belong to this group, the fine art lies in recognizing where you are pouring your energy in vain and where you are actually moving forward. Another vital step is understanding that achievement is not the same thing as success. True success can also mean navigating a process with honest responsibility—knowing that you often learn more from missing a target, or shooting just outside the inner ring, because it forces you to recalibrate your strategy.
To recap: a high performer—whose passion lies in getting things done, creating an impact, and owning decisions—will thrive when the mission is clear and expectations are openly communicated.
Personally, I found myself struggling in situations where I proactively asked what was expected of me, only to be confronted later with a reality that conflicted with the answers I had been given in the first place. Duties were taken for granted yet never openly communicated, only to create a manufactured sense of urgency closer to the deadline. When both the timeline and the task assignments remain foggy, that is the exact moment where pressure stops being a motivator and starts hindering your work.
I wasn't free to act or decide because a higher-level review would constantly halt my efforts and force me to start from scratch. I felt completely out of alignment and began to question my own abilities and competencies. I went along with it, even though I knew the work wasn't being executed nicely, and tried to follow the flow without questioning the outcome. My outer behavior was completely detached from my growing inner frustration, until one day, I burst into tears after an alignment call.
Why did that touch me so deeply? Was I overreacting?
I felt misunderstood, underestimated, and useless in a situation where I knew I could have given my best—if only the framework had been clear. Moreover, my feedback felt like it was being fired into empty air, never receiving enough consideration. I felt stranded and invisible—me, a high performer who always has an answer.
This fragmentation brought me straight back to the question of self-worth and the old "be perfect" paradigm—both topics that I have consciously investigated on my personal journey. Yet, I still felt out of place and powerless in a context where I could have been exponentially more productive.
The first step out was admitting how frustrated I truly was, without self-judgment. I had to accept that not being happy with a situation was okay—even at work, we are allowed to disagree. This is especially true if you are not given the right conditions to perform at your best.
At first, I didn't want to see the obvious conflict between my internal values and these flawed external conditions. I tried to absorb the chaotic time pressure, thinking it was just part of the job. But my inner voice knew it all along: the time would inevitably come when I had to be honest, both with myself and with the world outside.
As I stood at that threshold, the heavy questions started rushing in:
Who am I disappointing by saying this out loud?
What am I losing by removing myself from this project?
Am I allowed to do this?
Will there be consequences?
And true alignment requires the courage to answer them. If you want to be truly aligned and perform at your absolute best, you must find the answers to these questions—even if it means stepping outside the boundaries of a traditional corporate attitude. True alignment isn't about deciding what is best for your job; it is about deciding what is best for you.
You can choose to keep performing on autopilot, but that emptiness will eventually leave you hollow and dissatisfied. Once you reach a certain level of self-leadership and personal awareness, you realize you can no longer just “perform” while feeling internally torn apart.
Accepting that I was not okay with the micromanagement, the lack of communication, and the misplaced pressure was the green light I needed to give myself. It allowed me to finally decide that it is okay to take a step back. It is okay to refuse to simply "obey" just because others—and my own ego—expect me to always achieve. It is okay to decide that I no longer want to be part of an environment that does not match my values.
Once again, choosing inner alignment is what creates a genuine outer impact. Sometimes, a clean break or a moment of friction is exactly what triggers your next successful step. In every scenario, self-awareness remains the most powerful tool you can carry with you into any role, any project, and any room.