To Rest. (Why We Should All Choose To Challenge The Hard Work That Hurts) by Ester Lou Weithers
“A little hard work never hurt anyone.” But a lot of hard work can be painful. This is the story of the rise and fall of my eye twitch and why I choose to challenge the hard work that hurts.
Blessed with an abundance of melanin, two X chromosomes and a blood connection to Caribbean shores, I was primed to see hard work as the key to doors closed to me by racism, sexism and all the other “isms” that breed inequality. My parents, culture and teachers taught me that while hard work would not eliminate obstacles to my success, success could not be achieved without it.
I saw great examples of hard work in my mother, Dora Weithers. Born in St. Kitts, she was a full-time wife and parent once she emigrated to America. She led the women’s ministry at my father’s church and chauffeured my brother and I to our extracurricular activities, all while keeping a clean home and cooked meals on the table. She inherited her work ethic from my grandmother, Eileen Charles, who performed strenuous labor in sugar cane fields as young as seventeen.
So once I set my mind on becoming a television writer, I embraced hard work as a part of my identity, my birthright. Five years later, I had the privilege of becoming a professional storyteller. I also have the bruises to show for it.
It wasn’t until a therapist stared back at me, with a mix of concern and amazement, that I questioned my brand of hard work. To maintain it, I devised a scale of discomfort. Level one: neck and shoulder pain. Nothing muscle cream couldn’t fix. Level two: tension headaches. Standard for any job with deadlines right? Level three: the eye twitch. Now this is where my therapist stopped me. As I shared that only the erratic spasms of my right, bottom eyelid would get me to sleep more than five hours, she asked: “Why do you have to wait until your eye twitches to rest?”
Until that time, my hard work was defined by more than a large amount of effort or endurance. It came with pain, weariness, digestive issues, insomnia and a hormone imbalance. I let ‘a little hard work’ grow into a daily and damaging grind. I relished being the first one in the office and the last to leave. Sleep was an annoying interruption to my hustle. Food was inhaled on the go. Caffeine was life. I disconnected from friends, missed moments with family and put off celebrating important birthdays -- including a few of my own.
But my hard work habit was not created simply because I was entering a competitive industry dominated by white men. There were times when working long hours and with intense focus were needed to live up to my highest potential. The problem was that my hard work was born out of fear. And anything rooted in fear is unhealthy and unsustainable. My fear, was that I didn’t belong.
I had good reason to be afraid. I moved to LA looking twenty-five, but being much older than all the other assistants. I didn’t go to film school. Never studied writing. If there was another woman in the ranks, I couldn’t always tell if she was an ally of all women or an accomplice to the patriarchy. And far too often, there was only one other black face in the room.
Fear unknowingly became my fuel. This woman didn’t need to rest. This immigrant’s daughter would never be called lazy. I had to do more, stay longer, push harder — no matter how tired my body or overrun my mind. I had to prove that I could handle the high stakes culture of Hollywood and live out my dream. But while I gained high levels of productivity, I lost a wholeness of body and spirit that I’m still working to reclaim.
It’s been some years since my last eye twitch. Though the pressures of being productive in quarantine tried to revive my relationship with doing the most. What I know now is that I can challenge the hard work that hurts when it offers to take me for a ride.
I can be honest with myself about what I can accomplish with the time and energy I’ve been given. I can honor my body’s requests for rest and nourishment. Most importantly, I can hold on to the belief that my dedication to excellence, God-given talent and unique insightfulness are what make me worthy to occupy the spaces my heart desires. I am still the descendent of hard working women, but I no longer let hard work hurt me or define me. It is just one of many tools I use to be my best self. Eye twitches need not apply.
Ester Lou Weithers is the daughter of Caribbean immigrants - a pastor and an English teacher - who introduced her to the art of storytelling at an early age. The combined exposure to church sermons, her mother’s love of detective series and the ever present oral tradition of West Indian culture, gave Ester Lou a love for stories with cultural relevance, mystery and a connection to the African diaspora.
After studying journalism at Florida A&M University, Ester Lou knew she wanted to work in entertainment but hadn’t settled on becoming a writer. She started a career on the corporate side of television working at LIFETIME and MTV Networks in New York. She read STORY by Robert McKee, with the intent of learning how to be a better development executive, instead she was inspired to tell her own stories.
Ester Lou relocated to Los Angeles in 2011. She got her first break as a writer’s production assistant on SHOWTIME’S HOUSE OF LIES, where she was given the rare privilege of sitting in the back of the writers’ room and watching scenes on set. Excited to get hands on experience, Ester Lou moved on to the pioneering independent collective, Black&Sexy TV to create, write and direct two web series - SEXLESS and CHEF JULIAN. Both were later acquired by BETHer.
In 2016, Ester Lou was accepted into and won the FOX WRITERS INTENSIVE Fellowship leading to a development deal with Twentieth Century Fox Television and her first staff position on PITCH. In 2019, Ester Lou was honored to be a part of the historic Hollywood Reporter photo shoot and feature story of nearly 70 black female writers.
Ester Lou is currently a Co-Producer for NBC’s GOOD GIRLS. And now with experience writing and producing, Ester Lou is developing the kind of stories she always wanted to see as a young girl growing up in Houston, Texas; stories that expand the spectrum of black women and men in mysteries and action thrillers; stories where they can be the cool, clever hero that saves the day.
When Ester Lou is not writing, she enjoys daring herself to be an outdoor adventurist, building up her skills as an amateur Instagram detective and volunteering with Good City Mentors.
website: www.bookofester.com
socials: @ester_lou (IG & Twitter)