What’s Wrong With Nurses Today? – A Veteran’s Reflection on Reclaiming the Heart of the Profession
- Brainz Magazine
- Jun 16
- 5 min read
Amber is a nurse educator, public advocate, and entrepreneur with experience in emergency nursing, simulation-based training, and harm reduction. Owner of The RTI, she specializes in critical care education, mock codes, and national certifications. Passionate about leadership and public health, she leverages social media to educate and inspire.
I became a nurse because I wanted to be a voice for the voiceless. I believed in compassion, advocacy, and trust. But nearly two decades after I first stepped into a nursing home as a CNA, I look around and hardly recognize the field I once loved. Somewhere along the way, something shifted. Nursing became a status symbol. A ladder. A filter for TikTok. And as the heart drained out of our profession, the bullies stepped in. Now, the bleeding hearts, the real ones, are burning out. I know, because I’m one of them.
I earned my CNA certification in 2006, my LVN license in 2013, my RN license in 2018, and my BSN degree in 2025. I’m now pursuing my DNP, and I’ve spent the last 12 years in the trenches of postpartum and emergency care. The field I entered was full of empathy and purpose. Nurses were trusted. Respected. Needed. Today, many are in it for the paycheck and the praise. We see influencers flaunting stethoscopes, not serving patients. Nursing, once rooted in service, has become an aesthetic. I’m finding people are getting into the profession because they will “always have a job.”
The turning point? It was subtle, but undeniable. The rise of social media, the divisiveness of public vs. private healthcare after the Affordable Care Act, and the explosion of money in the system changed everything. Insurance companies, pharmaceutical giants, and influencer culture redefined what it means to be a nurse. I wanted to be trusted. New nurses want to be in charge.
And they are. But not in the way that matters.
The modern culture of nursing rewards status and punishes compassion. Many newer nurses aren’t trained to listen, soothe, or advocate. They get in, get out, and post about it later. The ones who still care, those bleeding hearts, are left picking up the pieces. We’re tired. We’re disillusioned. We’re leaving.
I believe the core issue is cultural. Nursing used to be led by people who loved bedside care. Now, management is full of people who want out. The loudest voices, often bullies and sorority-style cliques, rise to the top. They promote their friends, collect awards, and hang up plaques for performative accomplishments. But they don’t model empathy. They don’t inspire change. They enforce a toxic, competitive atmosphere where kindness is weakness and respect is rare.
Worse still, many of these awards and accolades are laughably superficial. Management creates arbitrary statuses, “Nurse of the Month,” “Excellence in Team Spirit,” “Unit Shining Star,” and plasters the walls with the same few names over and over again. These aren’t the nurses in the trenches, calmly guiding families through grief, patiently managing chaotic shifts, or mentoring overwhelmed new grads. These are the favorites. The loud ones. The clique leaders. Meanwhile, the genuine nurses doing quiet, meaningful work go unnoticed, unrewarded, and eventually, they burn out. And don’t get me wrong, I’ve been treated poorly by plenty of patients. That absolutely contributes to burnout, too. But at the end of the day, if you are truly there to help that disgruntled, angry patient, that’s not what’s really eating at your core. What wears us down is the exhaustion, mental, physical, and emotional. It’s the weight of doing real work in a system that only sees the loudest performers.
So, how do we fix it?
Start with education. We already test for intelligence. Why not emotional intelligence? We screen for aptitude. Why not empathy? Nursing programs need to be more than academic hurdles. They should train the heart, not just the hands.
We need environments where nurses feel safe, supported, and seen. Facilities must take responsibility for building emotionally healthy workplaces. A healthy work environment isn’t a luxury; it’s a necessity for safe patient care. When nurses feel psychologically safe, supported, and respected, they make fewer errors, communicate more clearly, and show up more fully for their patients. Toxicity doesn’t just live in raised voices or slammed doors; it lives in eye rolls, gossip, favoritism, and silence when support is needed most. It slowly chips away at trust and erodes the very fabric of teamwork. If we want to retain nurses, protect patients, and rebuild the soul of this profession, we have to start by creating spaces where people feel valued not just for how fast they chart, but for who they are and how they care.
New grad retention might look fine on paper, but it’s because the new culture rewards self-preservation, not compassion. And that compassion deficit ripples out to patient care.
We also need to rethink who we allow to lead. Leadership should be earned through character, not cliques. We must end the era of popularity-based promotions and start valuing those who live out the mission of nursing.
I’m transitioning out of bedside care. Not because I don’t love nursing, but because I cannot survive this culture. I’m building a new future through simulation training, nurse education, and speaking out against the systems that have failed us. Every nurse I train at my facility learns about dignity and humanity. Every nurse I teach is reminded that patients are people, not problems.
What do I want?
I want to end the bullies. I want to end the stigma. I want to pull up more chairs to the table so we all have a place and nobody feels like they have to fight for it. Nursing isn’t about being the best. There shouldn’t be competition in this field. It’s about bringing out the best in others. And that starts with how we treat each other.
How we treat each other matters more than we admit. Nursing isn’t just about how we show up for our patients; it’s about how we show up for each other. The way we speak, support, and correct one another sets the emotional tone of a unit. Are we building each other up, or tearing each other down? A kind word from a colleague can carry someone through a 12-hour shift. A cruel one can end a career. We cannot expect compassion in our care if cruelty is the culture behind the curtain. Healing starts with us and that healing begins in the break room, at the nurse’s station, in the moments where we choose empathy over ego.
The future of nursing depends on empathy. Respect. Kindness. It really isn’t that hard. So why have we made it so rare?
We can be better. We must be better. Because lives depend on it.
Read more from Amber Soiland
Amber Soiland, Nurse Educator & Public Advocate
Amber is a nurse educator, public advocate, and entrepreneur dedicated to saving lives through education and harm reduction. With a background in emergency nursing, she specializes in critical care training, simulation-based learning, and Narcan distribution. As the owner of The RTI, she provides hands-on instruction in mock codes, trauma response, and national certifications. Amber also leverages social media to make complex medical topics accessible to a wider audience. Follow her for expert insights on emergency care, patient safety, and healthcare innovation.
