Picture this: I was 23 years old, working as a Catering & Events Manager for a high-end company in Philly. All I wanted was to be promoted to Catering Director, and to have the opportunity to grow with the company, make more money and support larger events.

During the interview process for this job, I was asked repeatedly how much I was making at my current role. This, of course, dictated the salary that I received for the CEM role—a salary I was forbidden to discuss with anyone. I was making $40,000 per year, and working, at times, the equivalent of 2 full-time jobs’ worth of hours. When I accepted that annual salary, I recall the (male) GM telling me, “You’re worth more, and you should have asked for more…but because you didn’t, I’m not going to offer you more.”

Nothing like learning a lesson the hard way.

After working for the company for about a year, my calendar was completely full of every type of event you can imagine: weddings, mitzvahs, awards dinners, galas, fundraisers, citywide conventions and corporate meetings. At the time, I was supporting two of the company’s contracted venues while a colleague was on maternity leave and working anywhere from 50-80 hours per week. Because I had a salary, I was expected to be in the office Monday through Friday from 8am-5pm, in addition to the evening and weekend events.

On one of my late weeknights at work, I took a break from the event floor and walked down to my desk to catch up on some administrative tasks. At 10:00pm, my boss was still sitting at her desk working—and she didn’t even have an event that evening. Here we both were, overworked and underpaid, and in a company that valued secrecy over transparency.

It hit me: What, exactly, am I striving for in my quest to move up in this company?

This woman that I admired so much, who had put in the work and established a foundation for her career, with the right relationships and knowledge to be successful, was working just as many hours as I was. Quietly, I glanced at my calendar, and it hit me that I had missed countless milestones in the previous year: weddings, baby showers, bridal showers, family vacations, and even funerals. I. decided to look for a new job then and there.

A story like mine is not unique, and not new. Hospitality industry veterans are no stranger to the hustle, and its effect on one’s personal life and mental and physical health. Workers who stay later, come earlier, and run themselves into the ground in service of the company they work for are praised, while those looking to achieve work-life balance are mocked.

The demands placed upon those who are underpaid, undervalued and expected to provide excellent, consistent customer service with a smile have never been more evident than during the pandemic. In fact, that exact mindset is what, I believe, made it that much more difficult to cope during lockdown and an uncertain future—and why we are seeing a decline in interest in restaurant and hospitality industry roles.

We have truly hustled our entire careers. We hustled for new clients, connections and commissions; we packed our calendars with work-related obligations and established ourselves as always-available, always-helpful, always-optimistic and never burnt out.

The hustle mentality is the reason that, when the world shut down, my instinct was to work twice as hard.

I sat in front of my computer for 10-12 hours per day, reaching out to everyone that I knew in the hopes that I would be able to help them. I planned free co-working hours for both of my businesses, offering folks a chance to express themselves and to find camaraderie. I developed 3 pivot-to-virtual options for each of my clients and tried my best to outsmart the pandemic by working myself to the ground. I cried on Zoom calls, read countless threads about the PPP loan, and neglected sleep in favor of learning virtual event platforms and keeping my businesses afloat. And I know I was not the only one.

My husband, who has spent over 20 years in the restaurant and hospitality industry, snapped me out of it. He said, “At the end of this quarantine, everyone will have had time to rest. You don’t want to overwork yourself and not be ready to go once the world opens up.”

Nothing like learning a lesson the hard way.

Last summer, while working and supporting my client events, I was able to:

• Do yoga each morning to center and focus myself before work;

• take afternoon walks with my husband and pup;

• take an impromptu two-and-a-half week camping vacation with my family;

• enroll in two courses led by Dr. Frantonia Pollins, “The Evil Behind Your Love & Light” and “Take Back Your Life;”

• grow my business;

• enroll in Wellstruck’s Mastermind;

• learn new skill sets to better serve my clients;

• spend time in nature every day;

• read 19 books;

• stop working each day at 2pm during the summer;

and, generally, rest.

I realized that I quite literally did not know how to rest before, and that rest does not damage my relationship with my career. Rest, refocus and time for myself has reignited my passion for what I do in a way that I never thought possible.

Now that the world is ‘opening up again,’ I find myself resistant to the idea that we reverse to ‘business as usual.’ Along with the rest of the world, I’m re-evaluating my relationship to ‘productivity,’ and to the traditions of industry that preceded 2020. I am still figuring out what that looks like for me on a daily basis—from taking time for a midday walk, to keeping work conversations solely to email and Airtable, to phone-free mornings and encouraging my team to take time to themselves.

Here’s what I do know:

We are not on this Earth solely to work.

The hustle has, for so long, distracted us not only from our own lives and family milestones, but from so many systemic issues that we need to tackle in our own communities and as a nation. The lack of transparency in salary discussions and the implicit biases that are present across industries is coming to a head, and as a result, the hospitality industry is finding itself with more open roles than workers looking to fill them.

To my hospitality industry leaders: It’s time to make a change.

The first step toward a thriving industry is a focus on treating your employees with respect: honoring their schedule, paying a fair wage, and giving them uninterrupted time at home to rest.

In my own life and business, moving away from the hustle has actually allowed me to be more productive and a better resource to my clients, while also staying true to myself and my daily needs. I still have the same get-it-done attitude that I’ve always had, while being rested and restored enough to bring power to each moment.

In other words, my sleep is the reason I can go after my dreams, and hustle when it’s truly necessary. If you’re reading this, take it as a sign to prioritize yourself and your well-being over an unhealthy ideal.

- Beth