Carrying Boulders
From Exhaustion to Wholeness
Dr. Diana Loubeau, Ed.D
Director of Academics
Doctor's Charter School of Miami Shores
I grew up thinking exhaustion was a badge of honor. In my Haitian household in America, strength was measured by how much you could carry, how long you could go without pause, and how much you could give to everyone else before thinking of yourself. My parents taught me discipline, faith, and relentless hard work, never missing school or work, no matter the circumstance. They didn’t dwell on what they lacked; they made do with what they had. That mindset became my compass: push forward, work hard, and be grateful for whatever came.
No one embodied this more than my mother. She worked two jobs, including overnight shifts, yet somehow had lunch ready when my sister and I got home from school and dinner waiting for my father. She carried it all with quiet grace, as if fatigue never touched her. What I didn’t learn from her was balance, the permission to rest, to pause, to care for myself.
As a second-generation Haitian American, I carried these lessons into every part of my life, and chased every milestone. I earned my bachelor’s, pursued my master’s, and completed my doctorate, all while balancing a marriage, divorce, stepping into single motherhood, and leading in my profession. On paper, I had achieved the “Haitian dream”: financial stability, professional recognition, academic success. But behind the accolades was exhaustion. Unlike my mother, I could no longer hide my fatigue. I admired her strength, but I knew I wanted more for myself.
That’s when the truth hit me: success without wellness is hollow. Too often, women, especially Haitian women, are praised for strength but denied the space to honor their humanity. We are expected to hold everything together, but what happens when we unravel?
Self-care and mental health must come first. “Work-life balance” is a misleading phrase; it should be “life-work balance.” Life must lead, because without it, nothing else stands. Prioritize yourself, and everything else becomes sustainable.
And yet, Haitian women remain underrepresented in leadership. Even when opportunities exist, our presence lags. We have the drive, skills, and experience, but too often, we are overlooked.
Our challenge is no longer survival, it’s thriving. Success is not exhaustion in disguise; it’s wholeness. Strength is measured not by how much we carry, but by how wisely we choose to carry it.
As a Haitian proverb reminds us, “Dèyè mòn gen mòn,” meaning, behind mountains, there are more mountains. Life will always bring challenges. But as we climb each one, we must pause, breathe, and restore. Only then can we continue, not just to survive, but to thrive. That is the legacy I choose to live, and the one I hope to pass on.
