For a long time, I believed rest was something you earned. Not in a loud, hustle-culture, no-days-off kind of way.
Nothing so dramatic.
More in the quiet, well-behaved version that sounds like:
Let me just finish this one thing first.
I’ll sit down after this.
Once everything is handled, then I can relax.
Which, conveniently, means you never actually relax.
Because there is always something to respond to.
A mess waiting in the kitchen.
A conversation replaying itself at 9:47 p.m. when I’m finally horizontal but, somehow, still mentally upright.
And if rest comes after everything is done…it doesn’t come.
Or it shows up in these thin little slivers where your body is still, but your mind is still running its nightly programming.
You’re sitting…
but you’re not at rest. (1000% me. Can you relate?)
And for a long time, I thought that meant I was doing life “right.”
Because somewhere along the way, I picked up the idea that capable women don’t stop in the middle of things.
They finish.
They handle.
They don’t need much.
And they definitely don’t rest before everything is taken care of.
That would feel… off.
(I may have inherited this from my own Mom, now that I think about it.)
Irresponsible, maybe.
A little indulgent.
Like, who do I think I am, just sitting here while there are emails unanswered and something vaguely sticky on the counter?!
So I kept going.
Moving from one thing to the next.
Carrying things I didn’t even realize I was carrying.
Pushing past the quiet, very reasonable signals that I was tired… or done… or just not in the mood to be a high-functioning adult for one more minute.
Because I didn’t want to be the woman who couldn’t handle it.
I wanted to be the one who could.
The one who made it look easy.
Or at least… not visibly unraveling.
But here’s what I didn’t understand at the time: When rest becomes something you have to earn, it quietly becomes something you rarely allow.
And when you rarely allow it,
your nervous system never really gets a chance to settle.
So you live in this low-grade state of tension. Not falling apart.
But not exactly well, either.
And if I’m being really honest, there was something else under it.
Something I didn’t see for a long time.
I wasn’t just avoiding rest.
I was using productivity as a way to feel okay. (SHIT!)
To feel steady and in control.
To feel like I was doing something right.
Because I didn’t grow up learning how to find safety in stillness.
I learned how to find it in doing. (I guess the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree)
You see, I learned how to feel secure by staying on top of things, getting ahead before I could fall behind, and constantly finding ways to make progress
There was something deeply regulating about checking things off a list.
About moving forward and not “falling behind.”
It gave me a sense of relief I didn’t even realize I was reaching for.
So of course rest felt uncomfortable.
Of course sitting still felt… off!
Because if I wasn’t doing something,
was I falling behind?
was I being lazy?
was I somehow… not enough?
And I wonder if that’s true for you, too?
Not in a dramatic, all-or-nothing way.
But in that quieter, harder-to-catch way where being productive feels like being okay.
Like if you just keep moving, keep handling, keep managing…
you don’t have to feel whatever might be waiting for you on the other side of stillness.
And then, this is the part that gets sneaky: you start to think the problem is you.
Why am I so tired?
Why does everything feel like a lot?
Why can’t I just relax like a normal person?
When in reality… you’ve been operating inside a rule you didn’t consciously agree to: that rest comes after the doing, the proving, and finally becoming “good enough.”
But(!) I’ve since discovered rest doesn’t actually work that way. (Imagine that)
It’s what allows you to live your life. Not a reward for finally finishing it. And I know, even reading that, there might be a little voice that pops up:
Okay, yes… but there’s still so much to do!
And I get it. I really do.
But what I’ve come to see is this:
The version of you who is more patient, more present, more clear, more herself…
she comes from being supported not pushing harder.
And sometimes, that support has to come from YOU.
From sitting down while things are still undone,
from letting something be good enough for now,
from loosening the grip you’ve had on holding, managing, anticipating, fixing —everything.
From taking a break…not because you’ve earned it,
but because you need it. (Wow, I don’t have to EARN it? Blowing my mind here.)
Because you’re a human being and human beings need rest. (You don’t say?!)
So what am I saying? I’m saying we, including myself here, don’t have to justify it with exhaustion or explain it with productivity. We don’t have to prove we’ve done enough first. Sometimes the reason is simply that we’re tired, overloaded, or human.
And THAT alone is reason enough to pause.
And if that feels uncomfortable, or unfamiliar, or like something you’re going to have to practice a few times before it actually sticks… me too and you’re not doing it wrong.
You’re just unlearning something you were taught very, very well.
xx,
D.