A woman with a curled bob sits at her work desk and buries her head in her hands, in exhaustion and frustration.
Image Credit: millann on iStock

Welcome back to Ask a Nonprofit Expert, NPQ’s advice column for nonprofit readers, by civic leaders who have built thriving, equitable organizations.

As always, this series offers Leading Edge members the opportunity to submit tough challenges anonymously and get personalized advice. In this column, we’ll publish answers to common questions to strengthen our entire community’s capacity.

In today’s issue, Marian offers advice to readers who are burnt out, underpaid, and looking to make the switch from nonprofit to corporate work without compromising their values.

Stuck on a problem? Submit your question here.


 

Dear Ask a Nonprofit Expert,

I have worked in nonprofits for my whole career (20 years). I feel burnt out, underpaid, and discouraged. I’m considering switching to corporate [work], but fear the optics of selling out.

However, working in nonprofits has shown me how contradictory our work is: we often serve people at the expense of our own wellbeing.

I don’t even know how to switch to corporate, but I want to work toward that without compromising my values, while being paid more and having better work-life balance.

Any advice?

Sincerely,

Looking for Change


Looking for Change,  

First, I’m so glad that you’re asking these questions. It sounds like this is a moment of reckoning.

Many of us enter the nonprofit sector because we care deeply about justice, healing, opportunity, or community change. That care fuels our commitment, and too often, commitment turns into sacrifice. The commitment/overwork/burnout cycle is, in many ways, a sectoral feature rather than a glitch.

The nonprofit sector in the United States is deeply underfunded, and part of what allows it to function is the quiet (and sometimes not-so-quiet) expectation that staff will go the extra mile. In that context, it’s no surprise that self-sacrifice is normalized and that we can end up serving others at the expense of our own wellbeing.

The current moment is amplifying these dynamics as the sector is under enormous pressure right now because of federal instability. Unsurprisingly, nonprofit staff are bearing a large share of the burden. In fact, burnout is so common right now that the Center for Effective Philanthropy’s 2026 State of Nonprofits report states that 90 percent of the sector leaders said it was an issue for their staff.

In short, you are not alone.

Long-term stress is not good for the body—that’s a biological fact. What I hear in your question is that you are deciding that you need to stop stressing and learn how to work within your limits. No matter where you end up, wanting to live sustainably is not selling out. It’s about the desire to nurture your own wellbeing and longevity. I’d encourage you to treat your longing for change as important information rather than a moral failure.

A Change in Identity

There is nothing noble about burning through your health, relationships, or optimism to demonstrate your devotion to a cause. A sustainable life is not a betrayal of your values. It may be a way you honor them.

I want to acknowledge that this kind of  transition may bring grief. After 20 years in the sector, nonprofit work is likely not just your job but part of your identity, your community, and your sense of purpose. Leaving, or even considering leaving, might stir up guilt, sadness, and confusion. That, too, is normal.

Your use of the term “sellout” suggests you might be wrestling with questions of loyalty and identity. It’s understandable that you’re wondering whether leaving the sector means you are abandoning those values. In my experience, it doesn’t. The values that brought you to this work don’t belong to any one sector. They belong to you. You carry them wherever you go.

Sometimes, staying in a situation that is depleting you because it proves your commitment can become its own form of captivity. There is nothing noble about burning through your health, relationships, or optimism to demonstrate your devotion to a cause. A sustainable life is not a betrayal of your values. It may be a way you honor them.

I would encourage you to reframe your guiding question from “should I leave nonprofit work and go corporate?” to something like “what conditions allow me to do meaningful work and thrive?” Addressing that latter question feels like an important shift that prioritizes you over any sector.

One framework that may help you take up this exploration comes from Herminia Ibarra’s research on “working identity.”  She argues that career transitions rarely happen because we suddenly discover one perfect answer. Instead, we evolve through experimentation. We try on new possibilities, build new relationships, and gradually revise our understanding of who we are and where we belong. So, before making any dramatic leap, I’d encourage you to get curious.

Start with what brings you alive. Across your 20 years, when have you felt most energized, effective, and/or deeply engaged? Was it building teams? Designing strategy? Mentoring staff? Managing projects? Creating partnerships? Solving operational problems? Facilitating change?

Often, the hint of the answer to “what’s next” lies inside the parts of the work we’ve loved most. Mapping your own bright spots will help you identify where your passion and strengths lie and the transferable skills you can carry into any sector. Many nonprofit leaders spend years guiding implementation, navigating complexity, building partnerships, managing ambiguity, influencing without authority, and leading through layers of constraints. Those capabilities are valuable in far more settings than people often realize.

Remember: you do not have to figure out your entire future while exhausted. Sometimes clarity only emerges after the nervous system has had a chance to settle.

Sometimes, staying in a situation that is depleting you because it proves your commitment can become its own form of captivity.

Building a Sustainable Life

You also don’t have to approach this as a binary leap between sectors. Are there smaller experiments that would allow you to explore new options? Consulting, advisory work, board service, fellowships, project-based work, informational interviews, or short-term projects can all create opportunities to test new environments and identities before making a major transition.

The question is not sector but rather alignment with your internal compass.

Once you have this experience and skills map in hand, along with a stronger sense of the kind of work you’d prefer, get concrete about the conditions that allow you to thrive. Try to answer questions like: What level of compensation would reduce chronic stress? What kind of schedule or flexibility would support your wellbeing? How important is remote work? Limited travel? Predictable hours? Shorter commute times? Better healthcare? Stronger management? More opportunities for professional development? More capacity to focus deeply?

These are not shallow concerns. They are part of building a sustainable life.

I’d also encourage you not to make this transition alone. Ibarra’s work stresses the importance of networks and “possible selves.” Who do you know (even loosely), or who can friends and colleagues connect you with, who has moved between sectors? Who might let you learn about their work, their organization, or their path? Reach out and have a conversation. These kinds of exploratory exchanges help people rehearse new identities before making any big commitments.

One more thing: the nonprofit sector does not own values.

There are extractive nonprofits and deeply humane businesses. There are corporations doing serious equity and sustainability work, and nonprofits replicating burnout and scarcity culture. The question is not sector but rather alignment with your internal compass.

I hope you find work that allows you to contribute and thrive.

 

Warmly,

Marian