Rest is an Act of Radical Self-Leadership

No one hands you permission to rest. You claim it. Quietly. Awkwardly. Usually at the edge of burnout. But you don’t have to wait that long.

There’s a moment. A turning point when you realize: this version of success doesn’t feel successful.The pace you’ve been keeping doesn’t feel sustainable.The pressure you’ve normalized? It’s eating you alive.

We don’t talk enough about that moment, because it doesn’t come with applause.It usually comes with confusion, grief, and a whole lot of imposter syndrome.

Because choosing rest doesn’t always feel brave. Sometimes it feels like failure… with better branding.

You look around and think:
“But I used to be able to do all this.”
“But people count on me.”
“But I already said yes.”

And sure, maybe you did. But that doesn’t mean you can’t choose differently now.

Here’s the thing no one tells you: Sometimes the pivot isn’t a detour. Sometimes the pivot is the point.

There was a time I measured my worth by how much I could push through. I’d work until my eyelids blurred—20-hour days, back-to-back deadlines, chasing the high of being “on top of it” while secretly drowning. I thought rest was a reward for being finished. But nothing was ever done. The to-do list always came back, and instead of letting myself breathe, I blamed my brain for falling behind. The spiral hit hard as perimenopause took over—right as the burnout from my undiagnosed ADHD was peaking. I felt broken. Weak. Like I couldn’t cut it anymore.

But the truth? I didn’t need to try harder. I needed to rest smarter. Things shifted when I finally took my own advice—when I started sleeping like it mattered, stopped seeing rest as a trophy, and started leaning into my tools. Not to do more, but to do less better. And you know what? That’s when everything started moving again. I get more done in fewer hours now than I ever did when I was forcing myself to be productive every waking minute. Turns out, brains work better when they’re not running on fumes.

I know it’s scary to shift and admit, “This used to serve me… and now it doesn’t.” To risk being misunderstood by people who only know the high-performing version of you.

But rest isn’t giving up. It’s choosing alignment.
It’s what happens when you stop proving and start protecting your peace.

This is your reminder…

• You don’t have to earn rest.

• You don’t have to prove your exhaustion to deserve a break.

• You don’t have to finish the list—it regenerates like a Marvel villain anyway.

Rest because you're a human, not a machine.
Rest because your brain works better when it’s not in survival mode.
Rest because you're allowed to want more ease, more clarity, more space to be you.

You’ve done enough pretending. Enough performing.
Enough squeezing yourself into a version of success that doesn’t fit.

This is your reminder...

• That perfection is the most boring version of you.

• That peace counts as productivity.

• That the messy, tired, real version of you is still worthy—especially when you’re resting.

So if you’re standing at that edge, wondering if you’re allowed to slow down…this is me telling you—you are.

If you're afraid people won't understand, let them catch up or let them go.

This is me—on the other side of the pivot. Fully human. Fully present.
And fully rooting for your next right thing—even if it looks like less.

Now go drink some water.
Take one thing off your list.
And ignore at least one unimportant notification.
It’ll all be there tomorrow.