Stop Burning Out to Keep Everyone Else Warm

You’re tired.
Emotionally drained.
Feeling more worn down than going ten rounds in a Waffle House cage match.

Why?
Because maybe you think being a good person
means being a chronically available one.

So now you’re out here…

– answering everyone's demands like it’s your civic duty
– swallowing your no because someone else “had a hard day”
– showing up to events you spiritually RSVP’d “hell no” to

And your nervous system?

Running on fumes with your fuel light blinking —
still thinking you can coast ten more miles if the road tilts downhill.

Let’s call it what it is:

You’ve been emotionally overextending yourself
on the altar of other people’s comfort —
setting your own house on fire
trying to assist other people with their own smoke damage.

You keep offering your time, energy, and empathy like it's an all-you-can-eat buffet —
hoping someone finally looks up through the sneeze guard and says,
“Wow, you’re serving up so much! You should take a break after you're
done carving me another slice of that roast turkey.”

But they don’t think to give you a break.
They just keep wanting more turkey.

Because no one’s going to hand you a boundary.
You have to build one.
And honor it like your soul depends on it.
(Because it kind of does.)

You don’t owe anyone your exhaustion.
You don’t have to keep performing like a spiritual cruise director —
organizing everyone’s healing journey while yours is sinking.

Sometimes, the most loving thing you can do is not reply right now.
To cancel.
To disappoint someone else's expectations
so you can finally keep your own promise to yourself.

And all you deserve to say to anyone when they make a request
that doesn't work for you is this:
“That’s not going to work for me.”

That’s it.

Your peace is not a public utility.

Do what does work for you:
Take your space.
Take your time.
Take your energy back — no guilt, no notes app apology.

They’ll survive.
You’ll finally exhale —
and remember what it feels like to thrive.