Being a Lawyer Today: Between Vocation, Burnout, and the Desire for Independence

I didn’t always dream of becoming a lawyer, although from a young age it seemed like fate had already decided it for me. I had strong opinions, defended my ideas with passion, and grew up hearing, “you have to be a lawyer.” My mother, a kind and committed attorney, would take me to her office and let me help her with contracts. But I also saw her suffer when she had to carry out foreclosures. She herself advised me not to study law to avoid those emotional conflicts. I listened to her—for a while—and studied Marketing instead. But the law kept calling me, through questions, curiosity, and the need to understand how the rules of the game work.

I studied law without any intention of practicing it, I just wanted to know. But once knowledge awakens something in you, it doesn’t go back to sleep easily. After finishing my degree, I decided to pursue a master’s in Corporate Law and open my own legal practice. That’s how Magna Legal was born. Today, what fascinates me most about the law is its ability to be interpreted. It's like a living language: what the law says, how it's read, and what it means can all vary depending on who applies it. That’s where the art lies.

When I was a student, I thought law was about chasing the guilty. Today, I understand that the true purpose of law is to help people coexist, stay organized, and resolve conflicts. I’m passionate about International and Corporate Law, especially identifying legal errors and restoring order. Solving problems that once seemed impossible makes me feel like I’m exactly where I should be.

But not everything is about passion and purpose. There are also difficult moments—exhaustion, burnout, doubt. The law is vast and never-ending. It's impossible to master every area, even though many clients expect us to know it all. Like in other technical professions, law requires specialization. A pediatric dentist, for example, is trained to treat children. While they may have general knowledge of dentistry, their focus is not on performing complex procedures like wisdom tooth extractions. It's the same with lawyers. But knowing this doesn’t mean the system—or the clients—accept it.

On top of that, we face the reality of practicing in a country like the Dominican Republic, which is still developing and constantly changing. Laws may say one thing, but institutions demand another. Regulations might outline the requirements to open a bar, for example, but when you call the agency in charge, they say, “we’re not issuing that permit.” And if you live outside the capital, you often have to travel to Santo Domingo just to get clear information.

I’ve experienced burnout. I’m intense, a perfectionist, and when I start something, I can't let go until I solve it. I’ve spent sleepless nights trying to perfect a case, draft the ideal contract, or deliver flawless work. Over time, I’ve learned to prioritize. To say no. To take on fewer cases. Money is necessary, but mental health is more important. Today I try to let go of the need for everything to be perfect, knowing there’s always room for improvement. If it wasn’t this contract, it’ll be the next one.

Starting my own practice was both a necessity and a conviction. I like things done properly, even if it costs more. At Magna Legal, I can control how we work, but also be more human, more empathetic, more approachable. I can educate my clients, listen to them, and find solutions together. The hardest part has been attracting clients. The most rewarding part is seeing their relief when a problem is finally resolved.

My dream is to continue growing Magna Legal. To build a firm where continuous learning is the foundation, where the technical opinion of a lawyer is valued, and where people understand that law, like medicine, requires constant investment in study and training. I want lawyers to learn to put a fair price on their work—to stop giving away their effort and knowledge.

To those who are tired, unmotivated, or frustrated, I say this: it’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to admit you don’t know everything. It’s okay to tell a client you’ll consult a colleague if needed. You don’t have to prove everything on your own. Even if it rains today, the sun will shine eventually.

And if I could talk to the Mariol in her first semester of law school, I’d say: read more, research more, build connections, work harder, and above all, believe in yourself more.

Finally, there's one challenge I can’t leave out: the lack of a standardized fee structure. Often, you quote 30,000 pesos for a service, and the client says, “another lawyer will do it for 15.” But they don’t realize that just in taxes and administrative fees, 20,000 pesos are gone—without counting the hours spent waiting, travel costs, or the mental labor involved. Helping people understand the true cost of quality legal services is part of the journey too.

Being a lawyer today means walking a tightrope between duty, passion, exhaustion, and hope. But I’m still standing. Still believing. Still building.