If you’ve ever looked around at work and thought, Why is this so uneven? Why does it feel like I’m carrying more?—you’re not crazy.

But here’s the shift that helped me stop feeling resentful (and start feeling powerful):

Your manager isn’t your parent. Your manager is a manager.

They’re not there to read your mind, rescue your week, or make sure the system feels fair. They’ve got their own constraints, their own fires, their own incentives, and—most of the time—an incomplete picture of what you’re actually holding.

It's not villany. But it is the job.

the non-cynical version

When I say “your career is yours,” I don’t mean be cold.

Be friendly. Be generous. Be a good teammate. That stuff matters—morale is real, relationships are real, and work is a long game.

Just don’t outsource your agency to someone else’s bandwidth.

what agency looks like (in real life)

Agency at work isn’t some loud, alpha posture. It’s mostly small, repeatable moves:

• Get clarity on priorities: “If everything can’t fit, what matters most this week?”
• Surface tradeoffs early: “If we want X by Friday, Y slips—what do you want?”
• Make your work visible: a short weekly note, a running doc, a simple checklist.
• Ask for what you need: time, context, support, a decision, air cover.
• Renegotiate scope instead of silently absorbing it.

And when the workload is unbalanced—when others seem to have it easier—the move isn’t to wait for someone to notice. It’s to frame the situation cleanly and give people a choice.

I’m not asking to be saved. I’m asking for a decision.

the good news

No one is coming to “handle” your career for you—and that’s not a tragedy.

It means you get to be the person who shows up for you.

Manage up, manage down, manage laterally—but remember the center of gravity is still you. Not the person you’re hoping will notice. Not the person you’re hoping will approve. You.