I live life fairly stressed (the good kind...read on to learn more). Ask my husband who hears me unload the most. Or ask my sister who gets the majority of my evening phone calls while I walk the dog.
And I don’t actually want it any other way.
Stress has always been part of how I move through the world. It’s the edge that sharpens focus and the pressure that turns ideas into action. For most of my life, I have associated stress with momentum. If I was stressed, it meant I was building something, stretching, and striving. But not all stress is created equal.
There’s eustress, the productive kind of stress that propels us forward. It’s the nervous energy before a big launch, the buzz of possibility when you’re tackling something slightly beyond your comfort zone. Eustress fuels creativity, learning, and growth.
And then there’s distress, the kind that quietly drains you. It shows up as constant tension, decision fatigue, sleepless nights, and that low‑grade anxiety that sits in the background even when nothing is technically “wrong.” Left unchecked, distress turns ambition into exhaustion.
The challenge isn’t removing stress altogether. The challenge is knowing which kind you’re dealing with.
Why this shows up in work (and leadership)
As I work with leaders and teams navigating transformation, I see this distinction play out all the time. Many high‑performing environments confuse distress for dedication. We normalize chronic urgency. We reward constant availability. We treat exhaustion as evidence of commitment.
But distress doesn’t make teams more innovative or resilient. It narrows thinking. It reduces psychological safety. It quietly erodes trust and decision‑making quality.
Eustress, on the other hand, is energizing. People feel challenged and supported. They’re stretched, but not breaking. There’s pressure—but also meaning.
The leaders who get this right don’t eliminate stress. They design for the right kind.
What starting a business taught me about distress... vices aren’t the answer
This past year, I started a business. And with it came fear, ambiguity, and a level of pressure I hadn’t experienced before.
My default coping mechanism? I turned to my vice: milk chocolate. Hershey’s bars. Rolos. Whatever CVS had within arm’s reach. I am not fancy when it comes to this.
Chocolate became the thing I looked for when decisions felt heavy and the outcome unclear. When the stress stopped feeling catalytic and started feeling consuming, chocolate offered quick comfort, but no real relief.
That’s when I realized something important: what I was experiencing wasn’t eustress anymore. It was distress. And numbing it (aka eating too much chocolate), wasn’t helping me move forward.
Hence, “confessions of a chocoholic!”
“Will you be my Valentine” gift from my boys…they know the way to my heart. Credit: Sweet Nothings, Summit, NJ
So – what did I do to get out of the vice takeover? Moving from distress back to eustress
Here are a few practices I use (and have seen actually help) at work and in life:
Name the stress honestly: There’s a big difference between “I’m stressed because I care” and “I’m overwhelmed and unsure where to start.” Naming it correctly gives you leverage.
Shorten the time horizon. Distress thrives in ambiguity. Eustress lives in forward motion. Clarify the next decision or action—just one—and let the rest wait.
Create containment. Set boundaries around stress instead of allowing it to bleed everywhere. Time‑bound problem solving, scheduled worry, clear working hours... structure reduces unnecessary strain.
Move the body. This sounds simple because it is. Walking, running, stretching. Movement changes stress chemistry faster than any mindset shift.
Replace numbing with grounding. Chocolate, Instagram doom scrolling, overworking—they dull experience without resolving it. Sleep, hydration, getting outside, and honest conversation restore you.
The point isn’t to be calm. Some stress is a sign you’re alive, engaged, and doing meaningful work. But when stress stops pulling you forward and starts pulling you under, it’s a signal you should action on.
Learning to tell the difference has changed how I work, how I lead, and how I build.
And these days, I still keep chocolate around - trust me, can’t live without it! I just don’t expect it to solve problems it was never meant to solve.
