When I was four years old, I was “Star of the Week” at Professor Bear’s Daycare. I wrote that my favorite color was purple, my favorite food was strawberry, and I wanted to be a lawyer when I grew up. Not a whole lot has changed.

I was the first family member to graduate from college. I didn’t know any lawyers personally before then. I spent undergraduate double majoring, double minoring, earning my paralegal certification, while working full time for human resources, serving in my off hours, and maintaining an intense workout schedule. I was a Grade A, Type A, woman on a mission, and my hustle was unmatched.

I didn’t slow down in law school or through my first several years of practice. I moved from Washington DC, to Chicago, and back home to St. Louis when my family’s needs called for it.

Then the sky fell down. It wasn’t the first time it happened but it was the first time it involved my professional life. This particular catastrophe played out over a year. The whos and hows and whens are now the subject of a non-disclosure agreement and needless to say, this all began before the MeToo Movement. For those of you who are blessed to be only vaguely familiar with NDAs, I’ll tell you they tend to cover life changing stories that you aren’t allowed to talk about.

My life changing story left me having an identity crisis. Not my first but definitely the first to make me doubt my profession. How could a career that I loved so much hurt me? I was lost. Angry. Displaced. Above all, for the very first time in living memory, I was hustleless.

What did I do about this new lack of me? All the wrong things. I tried to ignore my doubts, concerns, trauma and feelings. I went to a new law firm. I rejected the idea that I should see a therapist. I tried to live my post-war life like the old me. She was long gone. Dead, in fact.

Because I slowed down and because I wasn’t succeeding, I actually noticed a lot of the burnout around me. As it turns out, this culture that hurt me, actually caused a lot of hurt in a lot of people. I left litigation. I helped to launch a legal platform designed to make law more accessible. I wrote curriculum to help entrepreneurs understand how the law helps them.

The practice of law called me back. The friends who called because they were terrified of a lawsuit. The family who needed advice on the kinds of legal drama that only happen in Southern Missouri. Mostly, the stories of toxic law firm environments and people affected by them.

Something else hasn’t changed since the early 90s; my favorite Dr. Seuss movie, The Lorax. This refrain goes through my head once a week, “unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, it’s not going to get better. It’s not.” So, we can say Dr. Seuss brought me back to the practice of law.

The hustle and bustle of life in the legal profession can be downright toxic. It’s been years since this story began and I’ve revisited it almost every day since. I believe in the power of the law to do good. I believe I am cut out to be a lawyer. I believe the legal profession needs to step up and it starts with lawyers who care a lot about it.

I’m not hustleless anymore but I am a huge advocate of the shift to hustle less lawyering.