by Matthew Ward
I’ve been part of the hospitality industry for as long as I can remember. I started my first job at fifteen, bussing tables at a local steakhouse in my hometown. The moment I stepped onto the floor surrounded by clattering plates, sizzling pans, and that unique hum of organized chaos, I was hooked. There was something about the pace, the teamwork, and the shared sense of purpose that drew me in immediately. From that point on, I knew I had found my place.
But what I did not realize back then was how much this industry, one built on taking care of others, can take out of you if you don’t also learn to take care of yourself.
For most of my career in hospitality, I have lived with anxiety. Not the kind that comes and goes, but the kind that hums constantly in the background, the kind that makes your mind race even after the last plate is served, the last light in the kitchen goes off, and the door finally locks for the night. I remember how the anxiety would grow as the day went on, and it got closer to time to report for my shift. The anxiety crept in like clockwork – my mind spinning, my feet pacing circles around the living room, that familiar heaviness in my chest growing as I braced myself for the day ahead.
For a long time, I did not talk about it. Like a lot of people in this industry, I thought feeling overwhelmed was just part of the job, that if you weren’t running on caffeine and adrenaline, you weren’t doing enough. That somehow, exhaustion was proof of dedication.
But here’s what I’ve learned after years in this field: ignoring your own mental health doesn’t make you stronger. It just makes you tired. And in hospitality, where the pace never slows and the expectations only grow, that kind of fatigue can quietly eat away at you and your team.
The Culture of Always On
If you’ve worked in a kitchen, dining hall, or restaurant, you know the rhythm – fast, demanding, unrelenting. There’s always another service, another event, another rush. You tell yourself, “Once things slow down, I’ll take care of myself.” But you never do. There’s always something else to prep, plan, or fix.
In hospitality, we’re trained to take care of everyone else first. Guests, customers, students – their needs come before ours. That mindset is part of what makes this industry so special, but it’s also what makes it so hard. When we spend all our energy serving others, there’s often little left for ourselves.
For years, I thought anxiety was just part of being a chef. I told myself it was fuel – that it kept me sharp, focused, and driven. But it was also draining me. There were days when I’d walk into work already tense before anything had even gone wrong. I would lie awake at night replaying every conversation, every decision, every small mistake. It wasn’t sustainable – and it was not healthy.
When Leadership Means Listening
As I moved into leadership roles, I realized that my struggles weren’t unique. They were everywhere, just rarely spoken aloud. Cooks working double shifts. Managers burning out under staffing shortages. Servers juggling two jobs to make ends meet. And everyone pretending they were fine because that’s what we’ve always done.
That realization changed how I see leadership. I used to think that being a good leader meant having all the answers and never showing weakness. Now I know it means something quite different. It means creating space for honesty. It means listening, even when it’s uncomfortable. It means showing your team that it’s okay not to be okay and that support is available.
Leadership, especially in hospitality, must go beyond operations and budgets. It’s about people. It’s about building workplaces where individuals feel safe, supported, and seen. It means leading with a degree of empathy. Because when someone’s mental health is suffering, it doesn’t just affect their performance – it affects their entire life.
The Systemic Struggles
The hospitality industry has always had structural challenges – low wages, inconsistent hours, difficult working conditions and limited access to benefits or healthcare. These aren’t just HR or policy issues; they’re mental health issues.
When someone doesn’t know if they can pay rent, when their schedule constantly shifts, when they’re covering extra shifts because the team is short-staffed – that stress compounds. It doesn’t stay at work. It follows them home; it affects their families, and it chips away at their sense of stability.
We can’t talk about wellness without talking about equity. Mental health initiatives matter, but they can’t stand alone. They need to exist alongside fair pay, better scheduling practices, and pathways for growth. True wellness comes from systems that value people – not just productivity.
Finding My Way Back to Balance
There came a point in my career when I had to face the reality that I wasn’t okay. The anxiety, the exhaustion, the constant pressure – it had built up to a breaking point. I was doing everything I thought a good leader should do: showing up early, staying late, saying yes to everything. But inside, I was running on fumes.
I had to unlearn the idea that rest was weakness. I had to admit that I couldn’t pour from an empty cup. That realization didn’t happen overnight – it was a slow process of giving myself permission to pause. To breathe. To talk about it.
That’s when I discovered CHOW (Culinary Hospitality Outreach Wellness) – a community I hadn’t realized I needed. CHOW offered something that’s often missing in this industry: genuine connection. It gave me a space to talk openly about the challenges we face as hospitality professionals – without judgment, without shame – and reminded me I wasn’t alone. There’s actual strength in vulnerability, and CHOW helped me see that.
My journey with CHOW actually began in an unexpected way. At the Association for Healthcare Foodservice Conference in August 2024, I had the chance to hear Jasmin Parks-Papadopoulos present on CHOW’s mission and resources. Her words struck a chord with me. Later that day, I found myself judging the culinary competition alongside her, and we started sharing stories from our experiences in the industry – the highs, the challenges, and everything in between. That conversation stayed with me. It was one of those full-circle moments that reminded me how certain personal encounters happen for a reason. I left that conference knowing I wanted to be part of what CHOW was doing – to give back to an industry that has given me so much and to help make mental health an open, ongoing conversation.
I often wonder if my career might have taken a different path had I known about CHOW earlier if I’d had access to those conversations, that community, and those tools before the anxiety took such a deep hold. Maybe I would’ve learned sooner that it’s okay to ask for help. Maybe I would’ve learned that caring for myself wasn’t selfish, but necessary. That thought motivates me now to make sure others in this industry don’t have to wonder the same thing ten years down the road.
The truth is, I still struggle with anxiety to this day. But I’ve learned how to cope, how to create space for balance and self-care, even when the job doesn’t slow down. Over the past few months, I’ve done a lot of reflecting on both my personal and professional life, especially since losing my father back in January. It’s been a tough season, and there have been moments when the weight has felt heavy to carry. But I’ve learned that it’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to lean on others when you need support. That lesson about vulnerability, connection, and community is one I’m carrying forward in everything I do.
Becoming a CHOW ambassador feels like coming full circle. It’s a chance to pay forward what I’ve learned that mental health belongs on the front burner, not the back. That taking care of our people isn’t just good leadership; it’s good hospitality.
Changing the Conversation
Talking about mental health in hospitality can still feel uncomfortable. We’ve been conditioned to push through, to “handle it.” But every time we stay silent, we reinforce the stigma that keeps people from getting help.
As leaders, we have the power to change that. It starts with small things. Checking in with your team and actually meaning it. Encouraging time off and recognizing that someone might need a mental health day just as much as a sick day. Sharing your own story, so others know it’s okay to share theirs.
We also must recognize that support can take many forms. It might be connecting someone with professional resources, or it might just be listening without judgment. It might be setting boundaries around workload and hours or rethinking how we define success as a team.
The more we make mental health part of everyday conversation, the stronger our culture becomes.
Building a Sustainable Future
The hospitality industry is at a crossroads. We’re facing a generation of workers who want more than a paycheck – they want purpose, balance, and belonging. And honestly, that’s a good thing. It’s pushing all of us to rethink how we work, lead, and care for one another.
Putting mental health at the forefront isn’t about being soft. It’s about being smart. When our teams feel supported, when they know they matter, everything improves – retention, creativity, morale, guest experience. It’s the foundation of a healthy, sustainable operation.
If we want to build an industry that lasts, we must take care of the people who make it run. That means reimagining what leadership looks like, not as command and control, but as compassion and connection.
Full Circle
Looking back, I wish I’d learned sooner that anxiety didn’t make me weak but made me human. And in being open about it, I’ve found that it creates connection rather than distance. People don’t expect perfection from their leaders; they want authenticity.
Hospitality has always been about care – the simple, human act of making someone feel seen and valued. Maybe the next evolution of our industry is turning that care inward. Because when we create workplaces where wellness isn’t just talked about but lived, we’re not just improving our teams – we’re changing the culture of hospitality for the better.
If we can do that, we won’t just feed people. We’ll nourish them – including ours
Follow Matthew’s journey:
IG: @matttx76
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Twitter: @mattchef76LinkedIn: www.linkedin.com/in/chefmatthewward

