There’s this idea floating around that when life knocks us down, we’re supposed to rise stronger, better, shinier. We call it a “glow-up”. A reinvention. A full-blown comeback.
But what if healing doesn’t look like becoming someone new?
What if it looks like peeling off everything that never belonged to you in the first place?
The masks.
The expectations.
The “shoulds” that were never yours to carry.
What if it’s not about leveling up—but softening down?
The Exhaustion We Don’t Talk About
Burnout isn’t just tiredness. It’s soul-weariness.
It’s giving and giving until even the things that once filled you start to feel hollow.
It’s waking up and not recognizing yourself in the mirror—not because you look different, but because you feel erased.
You didn’t mean to disappear.
You were just trying to be everything for everyone.
And slowly…
the laughter became muted.
The spark became a flicker.
The woman you once knew—vibrant, intuitive, clear—drifted into the background.
But she’s not gone.
She’s waiting for you underneath the noise.
Rebuilding Isn’t a Race
When you finally stop moving, the stillness can feel almost unbearable.
Because now you’re sitting with what you’ve been avoiding:
the grief, the truth, the loneliness, the rawness.
But don’t rush past it.
This is the fertile ground.
This is the beginning of return.
Return to your breath.
To your body.
To your softness.
To the small, sacred choices that feel like you.
This doesn’t require a grand plan.
This doesn’t demand hustle.
This is the work of remembering.
Little Ways to Come Back to You
- Say “no” without explaining.
- Make something with your hands.
- Wear something that feels like comfort.
- Spend 10 minutes alone with no distractions.
- Cry, then let the tears mean something kind.
- Make eye contact with yourself in the mirror and whisper:
“You’re still in there. And I love you.”
Journal Invitation:
“What parts of me have I silenced to survive—and what would it look like to invite them back with love?”
Write without editing.
Let your truth spill out.
Then read it back like a letter from someone who never stopped believing in you.
You Are Not Lost. You Are Returning.
This journey isn’t about proving anything to anyone.
It’s not about becoming perfect.
It’s about making peace with where you are.
You’re allowed to heal in silence.
You’re allowed to rest.
You’re allowed to not have all the answers.
The truth is: you never left—you just got buried under all the expectations.
And now?
You get to come home.
Back to your rhythm.
Back to your truth.
Back to the soft, strong, whole woman you’ve always been.
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