The trap no one warns high performers about.

Letters From The In-Between: The trap no one warns high performers about.

​Vanessa Santos

{{ subscriber.first_name }}, Listen to this letter on Spotify / Apple 🎧

On Saturday night, I showed someone I trust my finances for the first time. Not a pretty spreadsheet. The real numbers. The investments. The debt. The risks I'm taking to build this company.

And then I cried. Not from fear. From relief.

I said out loud: "I created safety for myself."

(If you want to know what vulnerability actually feels like, show someone your real numbers.)

After twenty years of building for other people. After being underpaid while scaling others’ dreams. After being taught I should feel grateful for opportunities that nearly broke me. After finally choosing myself, something I was never taught to do, I looked at the life I've rebuilt and felt something I haven’t felt deeply in a long time: Joy.

24 hours later, I was spiraling.

Nothing had changed. No bad news. No real threat.

But my body didn't believe it.

High performers are particularly vulnerable to this. We're praised for grit. For pushing through when others quit. Our ability to absorb discomfort becomes our identity.

But what looks like strength from the outside becomes self-abandonment on the inside. You train yourself to believe that struggle is noble, so when ease arrives, it doesn't feel like a reward. It feels suspicious.

I've learned to brace for loss because that's what felt safe. Success through ease feels more dangerous than success through suffering. So when the breakthrough comes, I don't trust it. I look for the threat. And if I can't find one, I create one.

Checking metrics obsessively? That's me creating evidence that people are leaving.

Questioning investments? That's me creating evidence I made a mistake.

Comparing my Month 2 revenue to my old executive salary? That's me moving the goalpost so I never get to really celebrate.

I wasn't responding to danger. I was looking for one because I KNOW how to handle hard.

I'm sharing this because I know I'm not the only one.

🪞 Some of you have built incredible things, and can't let yourself celebrate for more than a day.

🪞 Some of you have had breakthroughs this month and still convinced yourself it wasn't enough.

🪞 Some of you are so used to bracing that you don't know what peace actually feels like in your body.

No one teaches this. You learn it by living it.

I'm going to feel the fear and keep building.

I'm going to notice the self-sabotage and not let it win.

I'm going to stay in the joy not because it's comfortable, but because I've earned it. And so have you.

The breakthrough isn't the moment of relief. The breakthrough is learning to STAY in your joy.

That's what I'm practicing. In public. While building and sharing it with you.

What I'm building is different from what I came from.

Built on honoring, not using.

Built on truth, not spiritual bypassing or gaslighting.

Built on women building together, not tearing each other down to get ahead.

I'm building this to protect the next generation from the trap I fell into, mistaking endurance for loyalty. Staying too long because I could handle it. Using my strength to absorb what I should have walked away from.

I stayed underpaid while overdelivering, because I could handle it.

I stayed grateful for opportunities that nearly broke me, because I could handle it.

I stayed building someone else's dream, because I could handle it.

I stayed in romanticizing the potential, because I could handle it.

Until I couldn't. Until my body refused to keep going.

That's a pattern I'm breaking. And I'm building something different so you don't have to learn it the way I did.

That's what this world I’m creating is for. That's what this newsletter is for. That's what I'M for.

I'm unlearning and building at the same time. Some weeks I feel unstoppable. Some days I spiral on a Sunday after crying with joy on Saturday.

Both are true. So, I'm sharing both.

Because I think you need to see someone doing this in real time not from a curated feed, but from the reality of growing through the discomfort.

No one teaches us to prioritize ourselves. We only learn it after giving so much away that we have no choice but to.

If you self-sabotage after breakthroughs too, you're not alone. You may not even know you're doing it. So pause and ask yourself: when did I last let myself sit in joy without doubting the feeling?

Reply and tell me. I want to know I'm not alone. And I want you to know you're not either.

Until the next letter,

Vanessa

P.S. If you're in Phoenix and want to build alongside other women IRL, I'm hosting The Table, a 6-week working room starting March 5th. 10 seats. $350. Invitation to join coming this week.

P.P.S. Every letter has an audio version with a reflection at the end. Some things are easier to say than write.

These letters are for women and allies who refuse to erase themselves on the way to success.

But if it is, welcome to the syndicate. I'm cheering you on because you deserve to be supported too.