When Rest Feels Like Guilt

There’s a strange kind of pressure that comes with being still.Even on days when I know I need to rest - when my body aches for quiet and my mind feels threadbare - I catch myself apologizing for it. I open my phone, see someone else’s productivity highlight reel, and immediately feel like I’m falling behind in a race I never agreed to run.

I used to think burnout came from doing too much. But lately, I’ve realized it can also come from thinking too much about what I “should” be doing, who I “should” be by now, and whether my worth can survive a single pause. It’s exhausting, this invisible accounting of my existence.

One weekend, I tried something different. I turned off every notification and left my planner on the counter. I didn’t call it a “mental health break.” I didn’t give it a name at all. I just sat on the couch and stared out the window until the hum in my brain started to fade. The world didn’t fall apart. No one forgot me. The silence didn’t feel like failure—it felt like finally catching my breath.

Rest, I’ve learned, isn’t the absence of ambition. It’s what allows ambition to survive. When we stop long enough to listen, we realize that fatigue isn’t weakness - it’s the body’s way of asking to be treated like something worth keeping.

So if you’re tired, let yourself stop. The world will keep spinning. You’ll catch it on the next turn.