If you’re reading this, you’ve probably just come back from medical leave, and the ground has shifted while you were away. Your organisation has merged, been absorbed, or restructured. Your team may look different. You may not know who your manager is.
I’ve been exactly there. This is what I wish someone had told me.
I returned after a long stretch of being seriously unwell. I wasn’t “better”. I went back because I needed the income, and I live with health conditions that aren’t visible.
What I found was a workplace in flux. Invites arrived with no explanation. Meetings had no clear purpose. Nobody said which things were mandatory and which weren’t. People were frustrated about slow processes and missing information, and conversations went round in circles. It was lovely to see familiar faces, but I had very little energy to spare, and I realised quickly that I couldn’t carry everyone else’s stress as well as my own recovery.
If that sounds familiar, the lessons below are for you.
Lesson 1: Check whether a meeting is mandatory before you join
When nobody says whether something is optional, it’s easy to assume the worst and show up, even when you’re exhausted. That assumption can cost you a draining hour you didn’t have.
What to do: Send a short message before any unfamiliar invite:
“Hi, I’ve just returned from leave. Is this meeting mandatory, or is it a catch-up I can skip while I get set up?”
You’re allowed to ask. A clear answer saves you energy, and no answer tells you something about how communication works there.
Lesson 2: Other people’s frustration is not yours to carry
Change is hard, and people struggling with it will often vent: slow processes, missing information, “this isn’t how we did it before.” I understand it.
But when you’re recovering, you may not have the capacity to absorb everyone else’s stress. You can acknowledge it without joining in. There’s also a perspective worth holding on to: when you join something bigger, you’re no longer working in your own way at your own pace. The people helping everyone through the transition are usually doing their best, and patience goes a long way.
What to do: You can wish people well and still step back. “I hope the transition goes smoothly for everyone” is a complete sentence.
Lesson 3: You don’t need to belong to every group
I’d love to be part of a team, but not one that costs me energy I don’t have. Group chats, cliques, and the loudest voices taking over a meeting while everyone else stays quiet are draining, especially when you’re still recovering.
For a long time I went along with it because I couldn’t say no. Coming back from leave, I’m more aware of what I’m not willing to accept. That isn’t spite. It’s boundaries.
It’s also fine to dip in. You can join for a short while, say hello, enjoy seeing people, then say “I’m good, thanks” and get on with your own work. You can be warm without staying.
What to do: Decline optional group chats and meetings politely. Something like “Thanks for the invite, I’m keeping things simple while I settle back in” is enough.
Lesson 4: Look after the basics first
It’s very easy to get through a whole day without water or a proper meal, and then wonder why you feel anxious. Your body is still recovering. Eat, drink, and build in breaks before you try to process anything emotional.
Lesson 5: Getting your equipment and access can pull you into everyone else’s cyclone
The moment you have your equipment and access, you can be vacuumed into everyone else’s transition: invites, group updates, other people’s uncertainty, all arriving at once. It can feel like a cyclone.
What helps is noticing that many people around you are just as uncertain, even if they already have their equipment and access. Nobody knows as much as they sound like they do. When a huge organisation is absorbing a lot of people, things are going to be unclear for a while, and that’s normal. Having access doesn’t mean you have to be across everything immediately.
What to do: Sometimes you just need to go with it, accept that nobody has all the answers yet, and take things one step at a time.
Lesson 6: Find your middle ground (especially if you’re neurodivergent)
I’m neurodivergent, and my pattern is to swing between extremes. One side of me gets swept up in the chaos, running on adrenaline and forgetting water and food. The other side is the version of me who looks after herself properly, with meals, boundaries, and rest. I struggle to hold the two together.
If you live with a health condition or neurodivergence, your challenge may be similar: finding the medium between “swept away” and “completely shut down”. It takes practice, and some days you’ll miss. Give yourself grace. Notice the good things you did, including looking after yourself, even on the days you also slipped.
What to do: At the end of each day, notice what you did right before you list what went wrong.
Lesson 7: Not knowing who your manager is
This can be the biggest source of stress. You may spend days dreading that someone you find difficult might become your manager, with nobody confirming anything. One line from anyone (”it’s optional, but we’re here if you need support”) would spare you a lot of anxiety.
If you’re in the same position, here’s how to prepare so the uncertainty has less power over you.
Scripts for your first meeting with a new manager
Setting the context
“I returned from medical leave recently and I’m still recovering. I’m pacing myself, so I’d like us to agree how we’ll work together.”
Showing you’re capable
“I’m experienced and self-sufficient. I’ll reach out when I need something.”
Setting your hours
“My working hours are [your hours]. If you message me outside them, I’ll reply when I’m next on. Email or chat is the best way to reach me.”
Raising adjustments
“I have health conditions that need some adjustments. Who should I speak to about that?”
You don’t have to name your conditions. “Health conditions that need adjustments” is enough, and HR or occupational health can take it from there.
Questions to ask your manager
What’s expected of me over the next two weeks?
Which meetings and training are mandatory, and which are optional?
Can I work through training at my own pace while I settle back in?
When is our next one-to-one, and how often will we have them?
What’s the best way to reach you, and what’s the best way for you to reach me?
If my workload feels too much, what’s the best way to raise it?
Lesson 8: Prepare for your worst-case scenarios
In therapy, I came up with this myself: write down my fears and decide in advance what I’d do if they came true. My therapist agreed it was a good plan, but the solutions came from me, from what I’d already been working on. That’s why they stuck.
The key shift was realising that none of this is about other people. It’s about deciding what works for you and stating it clearly: “I’ve come back from medical leave, this is how I’m going to work, and I’d appreciate your respect for that.” If you have fixed commitments, put them in the calendar early and work around them.
Here are scenarios worth preparing for.
“You weren’t working when I contacted you.”
“My contracted hours are [your hours]. Please message me and I’ll reply when I’m next on.”
You’re pushed to attend more meetings or courses than you can manage.
“I’m happy to look at that, but I’d like the expectations in writing, and I need to do it at my own pace while I’m recovering.”
Pushback on your hours, or on a day off.
“These are my agreed hours. If something has changed, could you confirm it in writing?”
You feel put on the spot.
“I’d like to think about that and come back to you.”
You never have to answer in the moment.
Lesson 9: Get everything in writing
After any important conversation, send a short email:
“Thanks for meeting today. To confirm what we agreed: my working hours are [hours], I’ll be reachable by email and chat, and we’ll review how things are going on [date].”
It protects you if memories differ later, and it keeps things calm and professional. Put time off in your calendar early too, so it’s visible and not up for debate.
Lesson 10: Life admin doesn’t pause because you’re back at work
Returning from medical leave rarely happens in a clean, quiet window. Money, transport, paperwork, and other people’s behaviour keep going whether or not you’re ready. You may be dealing with stressful personal matters at the same time, where someone isn’t taking responsibility and the stress lands on you.
What I learned is that I’d been willing to accept this kind of difficulty before, and I’m not anymore. I want to move forward and give myself a better life, and that means refusing to let everything be made harder than it needs to be.
That brings up a hard question: how much of a fight do you have the energy for? You can be completely in the right and still decide you don’t have the capacity to pursue everything. Choosing your battles while you’re recovering isn’t giving up. It’s protecting yourself. If you do step back from something, check whether there are time limits so you don’t lose options by accident.
What to do:
Handle big admin calls after you’ve eaten and had water, not before.
Batch your calls so they don’t scatter across your whole week.
Keep a simple log of dates, names, and what was agreed.
Tell someone you trust, or your therapist, when the load is too heavy, and ask for help.
Lesson 11: Let people help you, especially if you’re usually the helper
Some of the most memorable help comes from people you barely know. During a difficult stretch, I dealt with a professional who was calm, compassionate, and excellent. I felt sorry that she had to deal with me, so I asked her how she did it.
She told me she had a background in mental health, so she was used to meeting people at difficult moments and working out what they actually needed. She also said her employer supported her wellbeing. I came away thinking that this is exactly what workplaces need: people who understand, who are compassionate, and organisations that look after those people in turn.
It also taught me something about myself. I’m usually the person others come to when they’re struggling, and I’m not used to being on the receiving end. People see someone professional and confident and assume I’m fine. There’s a part of me that gets on with it, a part carrying real turmoil that nobody sees, and a part in the middle that sees both and says, “We’re not going to accept this any more.” I’m learning to let that middle part lead, so I can grow into my potential and not just survive.
If you’re someone who is always strong for everyone else, receiving help can feel strange. Accepting it isn’t weakness. You’re going through a tough time, and people are there to help.
What to do:
Say yes when someone offers practical support.
Tell people what you need. Competent people are often assumed to be fine.
Notice who treats you with compassion, and remember what good support feels like, for yourself and for how you treat others.
Lesson 12: Protect your energy
You’ve been through something hard. Coming back isn’t a test of how quickly you can bounce back. Your health comes before optional meetings, optional courses, and other people’s stress.
If a new manager respects that, wonderful. If not, you’ll have your boundaries, your scripts, and your paper trail. Either way, you’ll be okay.
I’m hoping for a fresh start, with professional, kind people focused on moving forward. I hope you get one too.
The bottom line: protect your present self, your future self, and learn from your past self
If you remember one thing from this piece, make it this: protect what you want.
That’s different from protecting yourself. Protecting yourself means rest, food, boundaries, and recovery. Protecting what you want means knowing you’re a person with a future, with goals, plans, and projects of your own, and that no change, merger, or meeting gets to railroad you away from them. Your time and mental energy are what let you build that future, and they’re yours to guard.
The way to protect your future self is to protect your present self. And the past self deserves a place in this too. I didn’t always protect mine. I put myself in situations where I listened when I shouldn’t have, because I trusted authority automatically. I learned that titles don’t guarantee good judgement or good intentions. Now I treat everyone as an equal, whatever their level. People earn trust through their actions, not their job titles. That isn’t cynicism. It’s learning from experience and carrying the lesson forward.
When you know what you want, you can advocate for it calmly. Here’s what I’d keep in my back pocket:
I have a schedule, and I’ll stick to it. “These are my working times. If something important comes up, let me know and I’ll respond when I’m on.”
I’m still getting set up. “I’ve just got my equipment, and I have a lot to work through. Let me get on with it, and flag anything urgent.”
When something feels awkward: “I understand, and with respect, there are things I need to do and a way I work that gets results.”
The principle underneath it all: “If you want the best from me, you have to look after me.”
That last one is true everywhere, not just at work. If you support people and give them what they need, they thrive. If you don’t, the system has already failed them. The same goes for you. Treat yourself as you’d treat someone you were there to support, with patience, clarity, and respect for what they need.
Nothing about your core role has to change because everything around it is changing. Know what you need, protect what you want, and keep going.
Frequently asked questions
Do I have to join every team meeting when I return from medical leave? Not necessarily. Ask whether a meeting is mandatory before you attend, and if it’s optional, you can decline politely.
What should I say to a new manager about my health? Keep it simple: that you’re recovering and need some adjustments. You don’t have to share a diagnosis, and HR or occupational health can handle the details.
How do I set boundaries on working hours? State your hours clearly, tell your manager how you’d like to be contacted, and confirm it by email so there’s a record.
What if I don’t know who my manager is? Ask your current contact or HR when it will be confirmed, and prepare your key points in advance so you’re ready for the first conversation.
I’m not a lawyer, HR professional, or medical expert. This is personal experience, not professional advice. If you need guidance on your rights at work, speak to HR, your union, or an independent advice service.