Recovering from Survival Mode: Learning to Rest Without Earning It
I’ve been tired for years.
Not just the kind of tired a nap can fix, but the kind that settles in your bones. The kind that lingers even after a full night’s sleep. A kind of tired that’s deeper than exhaustion—it’s weariness from always having to be “on.”
Recently, I was sitting quietly in my new space when I realized how uncomfortable I’ve become with stillness. Even in silence, my mind was racing with things I needed to plan, fix, or carry. It hit me: I’ve spent most of my life believing that rest is something I have to earn.
What Survival Mode Looked Like for Me
Survival doesn’t always show up as chaos. Sometimes, it looks like success.
For me, it looked like degrees earned, jobs secured, responsibilities handled. I’m a first-generation college graduate, with both a bachelor’s and a master’s degree. I’ve built a life I’m proud of, but if I’m being honest, most of that journey didn’t feel exciting—it felt necessary.
I didn’t move through life with ambition. I moved with obligation.
I knew what I didn’t want to become, and I stayed in motion to make sure I didn’t become it.
My milestones weren’t about celebration. They were about survival. About “making it happen” because no one else could do it for me.
Even the moments that looked joyful on the outside—hosting dinners, planning events, holding space for others—were often me functioning through exhaustion. I’ve lived with burnout long enough to call it normal.
The Guilt Around Resting
Even now, I struggle with the guilt that creeps in when I try to slow down.
The belief that I should be doing more, producing something, proving something.
Rest has felt like something reserved for people who already "made it." Like maybe I hadn’t earned it yet.
Growing up in a world where productivity was praised and stillness was criticized, I internalized the idea that my worth was tied to how much I could get done.
And as a first-generation everything, the pressure to keep going has always been heavy. I felt like resting meant letting someone down—including myself.
But I’m slowly learning that rest isn’t a reward. It’s a necessity.
What Rest Is Starting to Look Like for Me Now
Rest looks different for me these days.
Sometimes it’s a quiet morning without an agenda.
Other times, it’s letting the dishes wait until tomorrow and reading a book instead.
It’s turning off my phone when I’m overwhelmed.
It’s saying no without guilt.
It’s giving myself permission to stop for no other reason than I want to.
I’m not always good at it. Sometimes I still feel like I need to explain why I’m not doing more. But I’m trying. Because I’m starting to believe that peace isn’t something I have to reach for—it’s something I can choose, even if nothing else is done.
The Fear of Falling Behind
There’s still a part of me that’s afraid.
Afraid that if I rest too long, I’ll lose my edge.
That I’ll fall behind. That I’ll forget how to hustle. That people will stop needing me.
But then I ask myself: what if slowing down is the exact thing I need to find myself again?
What if rest isn’t delaying my growth, but deepening it?
Even now, as I move toward new goals like preparing for the CPA exam, I’m reminding myself that pressure doesn’t have to be the only way forward. I want peace to walk with me this time.
Girl, Finally
I’m no longer running on autopilot.
I’m learning to listen when my body says “enough.”
I’m choosing ease, softness, and moments of stillness.
And while it still feels unfamiliar, it also feels like freedom.
Girl, finally—I am learning to rest.
If you're in a season of slowing down too, I see you.
Rest doesn’t always come easy—especially for those of us who’ve spent years carrying it all.
✨ I’d love to know:
How are you learning to rest?
Share your thoughts with me in the comments or journal it for yourself. Either way, you don’t have to navigate this healing alone.
We’re learning together.
Girl, finally.