Was I Fractional All Along?

I abandoned my own instincts for a success playbook—then found my way back

Yi (“e”) is a new Member and already a fast confidante. Though there are years between us, our kinship skips generations. Her candor, enthusiasm, and contagious passion are impossible to miss. She joined our Collective and jumped in headfirst—bringing ideas, energy, and a deep eagerness to teach and share.

Yi has up-skilled more than 130k people across ten industries, with a rare ability to spot challenges, identify white space, and immediately build processes (AI anyone?) to help us all meet the moment. THE BOARD is built on the belief that collaboration and ambition are not mutually exclusive. Few embody that spirit more fully than Yi.

April 💋

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When I was in third grade, I decided I was going to a sleepover. My parents, however, had a different strategy: they said no.

So, I did what any logical, future-executive would do: I packed my own bag, walked out the door, and went anyway.

Mind you, I was born and raised in suburban Shanghai, China. Even in the early 90s, Asian parenting methods were so much more rigid than what you might have seen in the Western world. Defying your parents was a monumental risk.

Looking back, that act was my first “fractional” engagement.

To be fair, as a 9 year-old, I had already assessed the entire situation.

I knew exactly where I was going before the sunset (a girl best friend’s house) and that I wasn’t planning to stop anywhere in between. I knew the roads. I knew what to pack. That year, my mother had even helped me set up a bank account of my own, so I saved my little allowance and knew how to withdraw cash from the ATM.

If anything, my mother was a victim of her own success. She had trained me to be too capable.

That’s why a permission slip wasn’t needed when I was ready for the sleepover. I just needed to handle the logistics and show up. (Though, for the record, I have since learned that “client alignment” is a much smoother way to operate than “childhood rebellion.”)

The “Good Student” Detour

But as I entered the professional world, I traded that instinct for a script.

I was told I should study accounting in college; I knew immediately that wasn’t my path. I was told to be a teacher after grad school, which I did here in the U.S. before eventually pivoting into the high-stakes world of Fortune brands.

These days, almost every Millennial friend I talk to doesn’t feel fully fulfilled, and the reason is usually the same. We were raised by a generation that lived in the long shadow of a decade defined by the Cold War, oil shocks, and the final upheavals of the Cultural Revolution. To our parents, the 90’s felt like a hard-won peace. In China, market reforms were taking hold, and the industrial machine was accelerating. For a moment, the world felt somewhat safer.

So, the “rules” for raising Millennials became clear: as long as you are given food on the table, you are expected to follow the script. Get good grades, secure the job, buy the house, and wait for the rewards that will eventually arrive.

They think that, if you were taught to be worthy of the paths already paved for you, why would you build your own?

Then, I became the ultimate high performer.

Somewhere along the way, I fell into the Millennial trap of the “Good Student.” I was delivering massive results, but I was doing it in systems where my values didn’t align. I was also working at the expense of my own wellbeing, waiting for a permission slip, perhaps a “thank you”, a decent performance review, a promotion to tell me I was doing it right.

The Reckoning

Eventually, I hit the wall. I realized it was impossible to be perfect in a way where I met everyone’s (often conflicting) expectations. When everyone else’s narrative becomes your own, you lose your internal compass and forget what ignites deep inside. I had over a decade of burnout. Burnout sounds like it’s just physical exhaustion to some, but deep down, it was a crisis of agency.

I realized I had stopped packing my own bags and started waiting for others to tell me where to go.

Recovery from that required a radical unlearning of the good student mentality. I had to remember that kid who walked out the door because she believed she was capable and going to have a good time.

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The New Suitcase

Today, I work fractionally (and selectively) because it’s the adult version of my grade school sleepover.

Now, I don’t wait for someone to define my worth, my schedule, or my output. I bring clients my own strategy, I solve the problem, and I own the results. In this new landscape, where AI is shifting the “what” and “how” of your work, the most valuable thing you can bring to the table is your own agency and humanity.

So don’t wait for the permission slip. Look for alignment instead. And this time, the good news is that my packing skills have only grown.

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