Acts of Wellness: Natalie Gross

My name is Natalie Gross, and I am the Director of Diversity and Campus Engagement. The office I run provides all of the diversity programs and student diversity trainings on campus.

I identify as a Black woman. I am Christian — more spiritual than highly religious, I’ll say that. I am heterosexual, able-bodied, middle-aged, a U.S. citizen, and middle class. My middle-class identity feels less solid and less defined than the others, but that’s where I’ll land for now.

I came into this study feeling really, really excited that someone was paying attention to what happens to the body — emotionally and physically — when a person does social justice work all the time. I was excited to know I wasn’t alone in my feelings and my experience. That feeling of being perpetually tired and emotionally exhausted, and yet ever ready to work and work hard, had become overwhelming for me over the past year or two. Participating in this study gave me some hope — just knowing that this was real, that it wasn’t just me.

What I’ve learned most about myself through this study is how consistently I put the work and others first. Taking time for my own personal reflection would regularly get pushed back or put off — and that happened even within the study itself. I had our check-ins scheduled on my calendar every day, and something else would come up, or someone would walk in, and they would become my priority.

I also learned that I am in the habit of preaching — and I’m putting air quotes around that — self-care. The truth is, I don’t fully practice it for myself. I recognize its importance and its necessity, but I don’t really do it for me. And I’m not just talking about “me time” self-care. I mean personal development self-care too. That came up a lot in this study when the reflection asked: what do you do for personal development? I wasn’t always sure how to answer that question.

I do think of self-care as listening to music — which is very important to me, very energizing, and something I can do while also getting work done. Or listening to a podcast, or reading just for the sake of reading, and thinking about how that renews me as both an individual and a professional. Finding more ways to incorporate that is something I’m actively working toward.

One habit I did notice I maintained consistently — probably one of the few I have — is taking time every day to read the Bible, or work through the Bible app, or dig into a reading plan. Building that spiritual foundation, deepening my own understanding — doing that every day was helpful. It was grounding and affirming. It is genuinely the best way I can start my day. Reading the Bible is my coping mechanism for life.

But I needed to build other coping mechanisms as well — especially on those days when students came in to process their pain, and I was left holding it with them. I knew they wouldn’t leave it in my office or in the chair where they sat, but I was carrying that pain too. I needed to find time to just — breathe.

What I kept coming back to during this time was the idea of pouring into one another. You can’t pour into somebody else’s cup if your own cup is empty. I said that to students regularly — and I wasn’t doing it myself. I was consistently pouring out advice, guidance, space to process, supervision, hugs, affirmations. But I wasn’t stopping to pour love, kindness, healing, joy, affirmation, peace, or silence — which matters deeply to me — back into myself.

The result has been a real lack of energy. It’s shown up in not wanting to cook, not maintaining my home the way I want to, not being the playful parent I want to be for my young son. And don’t get me wrong — my son gets my time and my attention. We read together every day. We have dinner every day, even if that dinner is delivered more often than I can really afford. But I often feel I could be more present — as a parent and as a person. I’m not sure I would feel that way if I were able to pour back into myself regularly — not as something I have to do, but as something I get to do.

Being a resource for students is deeply rewarding. It’s why I’m here. It’s what I came into this work to do. But I also know that being that resource comes at a price. For a long time, it was just me running this office. Having my Assistant Director — we just hired her over the summer — has been nothing short of a blessing. Having someone to process with, to balance this work alongside, has made a real difference.

The lesson that has stayed with me from this study, and that I encourage others to consider, is this: incorporate a self-care plan, and stick with it. This work brings a lot of joy — I’ve said that. But the underside of our work, the part many people don’t see, is the emotional labor we exert constantly. Students seek out our centers — LGBTQIA spaces, spiritual spaces, multicultural centers — as places of emotional refuge, physical refuge, and wellness. And we as professionals are expected to maintain that practice of safety, protection, processing, and advocacy for those students, all the time.

I honestly don’t yet know what a daily self-care plan looks like for me. As I said, I don’t do it well. But I’m thinking now not only about how to build that practice for myself, but how to incorporate wellness into a staff plan as well. Maybe that looks like taking 15 minutes in the middle of the day to walk. Making sure I eat lunch. Sitting and connecting with the people around me. Taking a moment to laugh — and not feeling guilty about it.

That’s the key, I think: not feeling guilty. Knowing that me feeling whole means I’ll do a better job. Taking time to feel whole doesn’t take away from the work. It never does.