Are high performers rewarded with more work?

When I was eight, I learned a lesson I didn’t have words for yet: sometimes “winning” doesn’t mean you’re finished — it means you’ve just been volunteered for the next round. I’d started at a new school where the annual swimming carnival was non-negotiable. I wasn’t sporty, I wasn’t competitive, and the idea of standing on that podium with a starter pistol about to crack the air felt like a personal horror movie. I pleaded, I negotiated, I tried every angle. No luck. My teacher wasn’t budging, and neither was my mum — the kind of parent who believed you show up, even when you’re scared.

So I swam my mandatory 50 metres, shaking through the whole thing… and somehow won. I assumed that was the end of my ordeal. Until my name echoed over the loudspeakers later that day, calling me back for the final. No one had mentioned the fine print: if you do well, you do more. That tiny, furious, blonde version of me decided right there she’d never win again if this was the prize.

Years later, I realised that swimming carnival moment had been a sneak preview of adult life — and especially of work. The people who consistently deliver are the ones who get stretched, relied on, and handed the next urgent thing. The people who coast? They often get rewarded with… silence. In this article, I want to unpack that “winning comes with a catch” reality: why it happens, how it shows up in high-performing roles (hello, EAs), and how to make sure your competence doesn’t quietly turn into an unspoken contract for endless extra work.

Winning Comes With Fine Print

When I was eight, I accidentally won a swimming race and discovered a truth I didn’t understand until much later: if you do well, people assume you can do more.

Not might do more.
Not want to do more.
Just… will.

At the swimming carnival, it meant being called back for a final I didn’t sign up for. As an adult, it often looks like something else entirely — a fuller plate, higher expectations, more people leaning on you, and an invisible promotion to “go-to person for everything.”

And if you’re an Executive Assistant (or any high performer, honestly), you’ve probably felt this in your bones.

Let’s talk about why it happens, how it shows up at work, and what to do when your excellence starts costing you more than it gives you.

The High Performer’s Trap

Workplaces don’t usually intend to punish competence. But systems do what systems do: they follow the path of least resistance.

If you’re reliable, proactive, and fast, guess what happens?

• Your exec gives you the project because you’ll “just handle it.”

• Your team sends you the messy thing because you’ll “sort it out.”

• Someone forwards you an email chain with “Can you jump in?” because you’re already the fixer.

• A new initiative lands on your desk because “you’re so good at this stuff.”

It’s not malicious. It’s momentum.

The more you prove you can carry, the more people hand you to carry.

That’s the trap: your capability becomes a silent agreement you never made.

How This Shows Up for EAs

EAs sit right at the intersection of competence and visibility. When you do your job well, everything runs smoothly — which means people feel safe to add more.

Here are a few ways the fine print tends to show up in EA life:

1. “Can you just take this on too?”

It starts small. A one-off task. A quick favour. A temporary gap-fill.

Then suddenly, “temporary” becomes your new responsibility and everyone forgets it wasn’t always yours.

2. You become the unofficial owner of chaos

If anything is unclear, unstructured, or falling apart… it finds you.

You’re the person who “knows how to get it done,” so you inherit it by default.

3. Your role expands faster than your title

You’re operating strategically, managing stakeholders, running projects, influencing decisions… but your job description still reads like 2014.

4. Everyone’s expectations rise, quietly

No announcement. No conversation.
Just a slow creep of “well, Alicia will probably handle that.”

5. You’re rewarded with trust… and workload

Trust is wonderful. But in some environments, trust is code for:
“We’re going to keep giving you more because you won’t drop it.”

Why This Feels So Personal

Because it is personal — in the emotional sense.

High performers don’t just want to do well. We want to be useful, dependable, and valued.

So when more work comes, we tell ourselves:

• “It means they trust me.”

• “It’s a good sign.”

• “This is how you grow.”

• “I should be grateful.”

Sometimes that’s true.

But sometimes it’s how burnout sneaks in wearing a good outfit.

There’s also a deeper layer: many of us were raised to push through, not complain, and finish what we started. If you grew up with parents like mine — loving but firm, allergic to excuses — you probably internalised “show up no matter what.”

That mindset creates brilliant adults.
It also creates adults who struggle to say:
“Actually, no — not this time.”

The Difference Between Growth and Exploitation

Here’s a line I wish more workplaces understood:

Growth feels like challenge with support.
Exploitation feels like challenge with silence.

You’re growing when:

• expectations are clear

• workload is realistic

• the “why you” is explained

• support/resources increase with responsibility

• recognition matches contribution

You’re being exploited when:

• more is added without anything coming off

• it’s assumed you’ll do it because you always do

• your boundaries are treated like inconveniences

• you’re carrying work above your level without compensation

• praise replaces progress (“you’re amazing!” but nothing changes)

How to Protect Yourself Without Shrinking

Let’s get practical. Because I’m not here to tell you to stop being excellent. The world needs excellent EAs.

This is about directing your excellence, not donating it endlessly.

1. Name what’s happening out loud

A simple, calm observation can reset expectations:

• “I’m happy to support this, but we should talk about priorities.”

• “This is starting to sit outside my core role — are we okay redefining responsibilities here?”

• “If I take this on, I’ll need to drop something else. What would you like me to deprioritise?”

You’re not refusing.
You’re forcing a choice.

2. Make priority conversations routine

One of the best habits you can build with your exec is a weekly “what matters most this week” check-in.

It prevents the sneaky creep of tasks that quietly turn into permanent workload.

3. Document the scope you’re operating at

Not for drama — for clarity.

Keep a running list of:

• projects you own

• responsibilities you’ve absorbed

• outcomes you’ve delivered

• stakeholder groups you manage

• strategic work you do regularly

This becomes your evidence for:

• role evolution

• title change

• pay review

• workload adjustment

• boundary setting

4. Stop “saving the day” silently

I know. This is hard.
But if you always rescue without visibility, the system never learns.

Instead:

• flag issues earlier

• involve the right owner

• say “I’m at capacity” before you’re underwater

Let the cost of a task be known before it lands on you.

5. Redefine “being helpful”

Helpful doesn’t always mean doing the thing.

Sometimes it means:

• finding the owner

• giving a quick steer

• outlining next steps

• delegating it to the right person

• saying no so the right problem surfaces

You’re still supporting outcomes — you’re just not absorbing everything personally.

What I’d Tell 8-Year-Old Me

If I could go back to that podium, shaking and furious and blindsided by the “final,” I’d tell her:

1. Winning isn’t the problem.

2. The lack of agreement is.

She didn’t mind swimming.
She minded being tricked into more without consent.

That’s what most of us mind at work too.

We don’t mind being valuable.
We mind the invisible fine print that comes with it.

The Real Goal

The goal isn’t to win less.

The goal is to win on purpose.

To be excellent with boundaries.
To grow with recognition.
To be trusted without being treated like an unlimited resource.

Because your competence is powerful.
And you get to decide where it goes.

If this resonated, I’d genuinely love to hear from you:

💬 When did you first realise that winning comes with fine print?
👀 And how do you handle it now — at work, in life, or in parenting?

Let’s talk about it.