Are your health and career intertwined?
In her early 20s, Sam dismissed, denied and normalised her symptoms of endometriosis. Then, she "fully, properly, entirely" burnt out. Welcome to The Club.
“There’s this perception that, because you have a chronic illness, you’re lacking in ambition.
Anyone who knows me well would say that’s the exact fucking opposite.”
Whenever I interview someone for the first time, I ask them a bit about their background, before diving into the nitty gritty of whatever it is we’re sitting down to discuss.
But Sam Wood, operations manager at EnergyLab, dives right in. As it turns out, she can’t talk about her career so far without talking about her experience with endometriosis.
“My career and the ‘health stuff’ are so intertwined,” she explains.
“I wouldn’t be here, in the job I’m in today, without it.”
In a way, Sam’s career has gone full circle. She has a science degree, and one of her first jobs was at a climate-focused not-for-profit.
But at 19 years old, she “took an absolute left-turn” and moved into hospitality.
This was an industry she loved, and one she excelled within. By 20, she was helping launch a rum bar in Surrey Hills, and over the next few years, she rose in the ranks of Sydney’s hospo scene, ultimately managing a busy bar and restaurant.
She was also experiencing worsening symptoms of endometriosis.
“I think I knew something was wrong. But there was a part of me that didn’t want to accept it,” she explains.
“When you’re in your 20s, you’re meant to be young and vibrant — you’re meant to be hitting your stride in your career. And I loved my job. I really wanted to do well.”
Less than a year into this dream role, Sam’s deteriorating health meant she was forced to walk away.
Even then, she blamed herself. She believed she was too young; that she didn’t handle stress well in general; or that she couldn’t cope with the physical aspects of the job.
“It’s interesting the stories we tell ourselves to make it seem like we’re fine, in our own heads,” she muses.
She moved into an office job in hospitality, hoping her symptoms would improve if she spent more time sitting down. Here, she sourced new doctors, eventually received a diagnosis of endometriosis and adenomyosis, and underwent her first surgeries.
She also took on more management responsibilities.
“In the process, with my continued determination to work like I was healthy and normal, I burnt out. Fully, properly, entirely burnt out,” Sam says.
“I had to quit work for a year and a half. I completely pulled the plug.”
“Chronic illness is not a personality”
There’s no cure for endometriosis or adenomyosis. And, as a result of the burnout, Sam also developed chronic fatigue and POTS, a condition causing dizziness and fatigue.
However, she eventually established a treatment plan and lifestyle that allowed her to manage her illness.
With a strong operations background and a love of working in small, innovative teams, she found her way to the Startmate Women’s Fellowship, and then to EnergyLab.
Today, Sam is incredibly open about her chronic illness.
She’s happy — enthusiastic, even — to share her experiences and start a conversation about endometriosis and everything that comes with it.
But she’s able to do this purely because she has a supportive workplace; one that gives her the space to manage her own health on her own terms.
“If I had to go and work full time in an office every single day, I would probably burn out again really quickly,” Sam says.
“Having the flexibility to work from home, go into the office when I need to, shift my workload as I need to — that means I can manage.”
This kind of trust relationship can be life-changing to sufferers of any chronic disease, Sam explains.
It’s not that every employer should know the ins and outs of endo, adeno, POTS or anything else.
It’s about being open-minded; willing to learn about chronic illness and what individuals need to thrive. Most importantly, it’s about giving people autonomy over the accommodations they need.
“Chronic illness is not a personality. Be open to listening, but try not to define your people by those things,” Sam advises.
“We need to be able to shift as a society to a more flexible way of work that just accommodates for everyone.”
Awkward non-conversations
As you would expect, Sam has had a few awkward conversations with a few (mostly male) colleagues.
However, for the most part, when she has explained her condition to employers or managers, she has found support.
“When you go to someone and tell them you have a chronic illness, they’re always going to be positive,” she says.
The discomfort has come later, when she’s been overlooked for an opportunity or project, for example.
Sam is more than familiar with that niggling feeling that you’re being treated differently, but can’t quite articulate how.
She knows most people mean well.
“But there’s this perception that, because you have a chronic illness, you’re lacking in ambition. Anyone who knows me well would say that’s the exact fucking opposite,” she says.
“Just because I have endo, it doesn’t mean that I don’t want to take on the world.”
Mindset matters
I’ve asked Sam about awkward moments, general workplace unpleasantness, and the prejudice that comes with having a disease associated with menstruation and ‘women’s problems’.
She’s answered honestly. But, without fail, she brings the conversation back to the positives: her parents, who have supported her at every step; the teammates and mentors who championed her along the way; the people who lean into learning about her condition and experiences.
That’s a deliberate choice.
“It’s not because I’m discounting any of the bad things. But dwelling on them makes me see the world through that lens, and that’s not how I want to live my life.”
This is also Sam’s advice for others suffering from endo, or going through the onerous diagnosis process.
"Chronic illness is tough. But ultimately it is just one part of you. It is not your entirety. It doesn't need to define you as an individual," she says.
“It’s hard, and it’s horrible, and it’s scary, and it’s dark, and there are so many bad rabbit holes you can take yourself down. So hold on to the good things,” she adds.
“It’s the same as what we tell founders: find the people that support you and stick by them. Find the people who make you strong, and don’t let yourself dwell in the dark.”
If you’re struggling with endometriosis, adenomyosis or chronic illness, support is available at:
Australian Pain Management Association (APMA)
APMA Pain Link Helpline: 1800 340 357
If Sam’s story resonates, join the conversation…
If you’re comfortable sharing, we would love to hear your perspectives in the comments.
Know someone who needs to read this article?
Hit that forward button and share this newsletter with your business besties.
Join the club
Subscribe for a fortnightly tell-all from the entrepreneurial and startup sphere. Because it feels so good to share, doesn’t it?
Who are we?
We’re Marie Dowling and Stef Palmer-Derrien, two business buddies navigating the tech, startup and small biz world with toddlers in tow.
👸🏻 Stef Palmer-Derrien is a freelance writer, journalist and word person, specialising in startups, tech and small business. Stef is also the co-founder and editor of The Club as well as media advisor at Newsary.
Stef is a parent to a two-year-old wrecking ball of a child, and also a dog who has absolutely no chill.
👸🏼 Marie Dowling is the other brain behind The Club and a self-proclaimed startup town crier. As the founder of PR startups Newsary and EzyCom, she is committed to democratising PR to share all the stories that make our world move.
She’s also la maman to a beautiful two-year-old and an Australian bulldog who does nothing but chill.
Great you have found your balance and have found your tribe to support you. It's great also to share the story, we need greater awareness of what it is to live with chronic illness. It is hard enough, without all the judgement and misunderstanding on top.