At five to eight, Teresa is on the bus, one hand on her bag and the other on her phone. She has not slept much, has left a load of laundry waiting to be hung up, and is thinking about the order she needs to sort out before lunch. A quotation appears on her screen: “Do what you love, and you will never have to work.” Teresa looks at the traffic. She would like to introduce its author to her nine o’clock spreadsheet.
Teresa is a fictional character. This is not an interview account; it is a way into a conversation many people know from experience. Some mornings, work is simply work. We go because we have responsibilities, need an income, respect our colleagues, or want to do a task well. Enthusiasm may arrive later. Sometimes, it does not arrive that day.
That does not automatically make anyone a disengaged professional. Perhaps it is time to ask why we started demanding a declaration of love alongside punctuality.
Competence does not have to bounce through the door
Imagine two people on the same team. One speaks energetically, volunteers to present projects, and often uses the word passion. The other is quieter, spots mistakes before they reach the customer, and delivers what was agreed without turning every assignment into a celebration. Both can be excellent. Both can make mistakes. The volume of their enthusiasm does not tell us who works better.
The problem begins when visible mood replaces an assessment of the work. “She seemed unmotivated” might refer to an abandoned task. But it might also mean that someone did not smile during a meeting, asked for clarification, or questioned an unrealistic deadline. Those situations deserve to be distinguished before they receive the same verdict.
Some roles require courtesy, attention, and care when dealing with people. That is compatible with professionalism. Asking someone to treat a customer respectfully is different from demanding permanent happiness. A person can be having a difficult day and still be courteous, recognize their limits, and ask for support when needed.
Nor should this distinction become an excuse to treat others badly. We do not need to love every minute of work; we remain responsible for how we use our time and other people’s time.
When “think positive” gets in the way of a useful conversation
Optimism can help a team through difficulties. Humor can lighten a hard morning. Some leaders offer encouragement without denying the problem, and that matters.
Positivity becomes compulsory when there is room only for the comfortable version of events. Someone says their workload has increased and receives advice about their attitude. A worker asks about promotion criteria and is told to be grateful for the opportunity. A colleague spots a mistake and becomes the person who “brings negativity.”
In this article, compulsory positivity describes that informal rule of hiding discomfort. It is not a clinical diagnosis. It names situations in which looking fine becomes more important than being able to explain what is wrong.
As a result, the conversation becomes less useful. If problems can enter the meeting only when dressed as good news, decision-makers will be missing information. Meanwhile, the person who needs help learns to prepare a convincing facial expression before preparing their request.
We explored a similar tension in “The company looks wonderful on LinkedIn. Has anyone told the employees?” (in Portuguese). Here, the photograph gives way to everyday life: can we be at work without constantly performing the most cheerful version of ourselves?
Enjoying, valuing, and needing work are different things
Research on motivation offers a useful distinction. Self-determination theory considers different reasons for acting and highlights the importance of autonomy, competence, and connection with others. In everyday terms, it matters to have some choice, feel able to do the work, and belong to relationships built on respect.
Gagné and Deci’s 2005 article on work motivation helps explain how people can undertake an activity because they value its purpose, even when the activity itself is not interesting. It is a theoretical reference, rather than a recipe that explains every professional experience.
Think about checking documents. Perhaps nobody would put that on a list of ideal ways to spend a free afternoon. Nevertheless, someone may value accuracy because they know a mistake could harm a customer or colleague. There is commitment in that care. No romance with the filing cabinet is required.
Needing a salary is also a legitimate reason. The landlord does not accept purpose in place of a bank transfer. Treating that need as a lack of ambition devalues people who support families, seek stability, or are at a stage when security matters more than adventure.
These reasons can coexist, too. We can enjoy one part of our profession, dislike another, appreciate our colleagues, and want better conditions. Even so, those mixed feelings do not diminish the seriousness with which we work.
Starting again after 50 does not require a brand-new calling
For a woman making a fresh professional start, the pressure can come in a double dose: find work and prove that she is extraordinarily excited about reinventing herself. As though updating her skills counted only when accompanied by an inspirational story and a photograph at sunrise.
Some women want to start a business. Others prefer to return to a familiar role. For others still, the goal is to learn a tool and find a schedule that fits the life they have. Despite their differences, all these choices deserve respect, even if they do not look impressive on social media.
Starting again might, for example, mean updating a résumé and realizing that a skill still has value. From there, it becomes easier to apply for a role with clearer criteria. Or to choose work that leaves energy for living, even if it is not a dream job.
It is important not to confuse realism with resignation. An option available today does not define every option tomorrow. But demanding passion as a condition of dignity adds guilt for people already making choices within financial, family, or health constraints.
The question can be less grand and more useful: “What conditions allow me to work well and still have a life?”
A day without enthusiasm is different from a job that causes harm
We also need to avoid the opposite mistake: calling everything normal. A dull morning is not equivalent to weeks of fear, humiliation, or an inability to recover. A lack of enthusiasm alone neither establishes an illness nor rules out persistent distress.
The World Health Organization identifies excessive workloads, low control over work, insecurity, and discrimination among the risks to mental health. Its guidance includes interventions in working conditions as well as support for individuals. The focus is not limited to teaching each worker to endure their circumstances better.
If distress persists and interferes with sleep or daily life, seeking support from a healthcare professional can help clarify the situation. At work, occupational health services and appropriate organizational channels may be part of the response. You do not need to wait for a perfect explanation before asking for help.
Accepting that not every day is exciting does not mean accepting disrespect. In our article about yoga, fruit, and exhaustion (in Portuguese), that distinction is central: a pleasant perk cannot, by itself, fix the way work is organized.
In practice: replace the demand for enthusiasm with a concrete question
The following suggestion is a reflection exercise developed for this article, not a psychological test. You can do it on a sheet of paper in a few minutes, without having to show it to anyone.
Start by describing a recent situation instead of labeling your personality. “On Tuesday, I had three urgent requests and did not know which to prioritize” provides information. “I am an unmotivated person” closes the conversation before it begins.
Next, separate out what makes the task difficult. Is information missing? Is there too much work? Is the task repetitive? Is there conflict? Or was it simply a low-energy day? These possibilities call for different responses. A poor night’s sleep is not solved by a career change; a chronically excessive workload is not solved merely by a good night’s sleep.
Then choose a request proportionate to the problem and to what you can safely raise. For example: “I can finish A or B today; which should come first?” Or: “To learn this tool, I need an uninterrupted hour.” Another option is: “I would like to understand the criteria used in this decision.”
There are workplaces where speaking up carries real risks. In those cases, preparing examples, seeking trusted advice, or using an appropriate channel may be wiser than facing the situation without support. Telling someone afraid of losing their job to “just set boundaries” is easy when the salary at risk belongs to somebody else.
Finally, observe the response. Was there clarification, an adjustment, or a date to revisit the issue? Or did you receive only a compliment about your resilience? One conversation is not enough to judge an entire organization. However, it can help reveal whether there is willingness to turn information into action.
What a manager can do tomorrow
One small change lies in the opening question. Instead of requiring everyone to announce a win, a manager can ask: “What is making work difficult this week?” There is no need to demand personal disclosures or turn the meeting into therapy. What matters is allowing work-related answers without punishing those who give them.
Alongside listening, it is important to recognize concrete behavior. For example, someone who carefully solved a problem deserves recognition even if they are not the most outgoing person in the room. Similarly, identifying a risk can protect the outcome rather than spoil the atmosphere.
It also helps to make priorities explicit. When everything is urgent, the worker has to choose while guessing which choice will be criticized later. Clear direction saves energy that no motivational speech can restore.
Managers do not control every circumstance. They can, however, explain what is within their control, raise problems with decision-makers, and follow through on promises. Trust requires that continuity, especially on days when the team has little appetite for another activity involving sticky notes.
We can like our work and want to go home
For some people, their profession is central to their identity. Others find much of life’s meaning in family, art, community, learning, or a walk without notifications. There is no compulsory ratio.
Work can therefore matter without having to meet all our needs. It can offer income, usefulness, relationships, and growth while leaving room for other things. Wanting the working day to end is consequently not a confession of professional failure.
In “Work is over. Why is our brain still in a meeting?” (in Portuguese), we reflect on the transition between working and recovering. Here is a complementary thought: we do not need to prove our love for work to deserve the chance to stop doing it.
Teresa finally arrives at the office. She greets her colleagues, opens the outstanding order, and finds an error that would have delayed delivery. She fixes it. She feels no urge to write a manifesto about passion. She feels satisfied that she has done that part of her day well.
Perhaps an idea will excite her later. Perhaps she will simply be glad to get home on time. Her work does not lose value because of that.
Do you recognize yourself in this article? Have you ever felt you had to appear enthusiastic for your competence to be recognized?
Work can ask for our commitment. It does not need to demand a declaration of love every morning.
Negócios com Alma · NEXA360®
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