The Invisible Black Woman

We’ve all heard the phrase “climb the ladder.” In fact, for a lot of us, it’s been the script since day one: get the degree, get the job, climb the ladder, and never look down. Every rung is supposed to mean you’re doing better—more money, more status, more validation.

But here’s the truth nobody tells you: not every ladder is worth climbing. Some ladders are shaky. Some ladders were built lopsided on purpose. And some ladders? They’re straight-up on fire.

Corporate America will gaslight you into believing that the burn you feel on your way up is just part of “the grind.” They’ll tell you that exhaustion is proof of ambition, that burnout is a badge of honor, and that if you just keep climbing, one day the view will make all the scars worth it. But if the ladder is on fire, no title, no paycheck, no corner office will stop you from being consumed.

It’s not just about ambition. It’s about survival. A higher rung means nothing if it costs you your peace, your sanity, your health, or your sense of self. Because here’s the kicker: ladders on fire don’t just burn the climbers, they burn everything around them. They scorch the culture, they torch trust, and they leave nothing standing but ashes and empty slogans about “teamwork” and “resilience.”

So the real question isn’t how high you can climb. The real question is: is the ladder worth climbing at all? Or is it time to step down, step off, and build your own solid ground—fireproof, unshakable, and yours to stand on?

Progress isn’t height. Progress is wholeness. Progress is peace. And no job, no ladder, no illusion of success should ever cost you that.

Until next time, I wish you nothing but sunshine, rainbows, and unicorns, which are no less fictitious than the fiercely fearless creature you already are.