They Fear Your Rest: They Need You Exhausted
They don't just want you tired.
They need you tired.
Not the kind of tired that comes after dancing all night or building something beautiful.
No—they want you soul-spent.
Body-shattered. Breathless.
Too depleted to dream.
Too distracted to question.
Too drained to resist.
Your exhaustion isn't accidental.
It's engineered.
And your rest?
Your rest is sabotage.
A system hack. A middle finger to every machine that runs on your silence.
This is the truth they don't want you to know: your rest is not a luxury. It's a birthright.
And that birthright threatens their entire system.
The Economy of Your Exhaustion
Let's name what the Forgotten Achiever knows all too well: Every institution—corporate, cultural, spiritual, familial—has normalized our overextension.
They mask it as strength, sell it as virtue, decorate it with gold stars and motivational quotes.
But it's a scam.
And we are the unpaid labor force holding everything up.
CORPORATE AMERICA
Doesn't run without our 200%. Our skipped lunches. Our "I got it" attitude. Our willingness to be the only one working late, again.
HEALTHCARE SYSTEMS
Survive our silence—our pain brushed off, our symptoms minimized, our healing delayed because we "look strong."
HOME
Is a full-time job they expect us to work after our other job—without thanks, boundaries, or days off.
CHURCHES
Glorify our sacrifice. Our committee hours. Our "Yes, Pastor" while our soul withers from spiritual depletion.
COMMUNITIES & MOVEMENTS
Lean on our free labor, our rally cries, our organizing genius—but rarely protect our energy or honor our limits.
FRIENDSHIPS & FAMILIES
Depend on our emotional bandwidth. Our unreciprocated support. Our constant availability to fix what breaks.
According to LeanIn.org research, Black women are less likely than their peers to have access to flexible work schedules or paid time off. Meanwhile, a 2024 McKinsey study found that 41% of Black women in corporate America report feeling "always on" at work, compared to 27% of white women.
This is the economy of exhaustion.
And guess who's footing the bill?
Your rest?
It bankrupts the system.
T
hat's why they fight it so hard.
The Black Woman Who Chooses Divine Timing
Imagine her—the woman walking in divine timing instead of their urgency:
She sleeps eight hours, unapologetically, because rest is her birthright.
She says no—and leaves it at that. No explanation. No apology. No three-paragraph justification.
She closes her laptop at 5 because her presence matters more than their productivity demands.
She watches the group chat go wild and doesn't respond because other people's chaos is not her emergency.
She turns down the organizing role. She skips the potluck.
She lets somebody else plan Grandma's birthday because emotional labor has to be distributed, not defaulted.
She doesn't explain. She doesn't perform. She doesn't fold.
She is the system's glitch. Its unexpected error. Its quiet and dangerous disruption.
She's not passive—she's powerful. Not selfish—she's sovereign. Not fragile—she's free.
She's a walking "no thank you" to generational martyrdom.
And when she's rested?
Look out—she's asking all the inconvenient questions:
Why do I hold the emotional weather of this household?
Why does my workplace survive on my burnout?
Why is everyone around me thriving while I crumble?
Why do I tolerate what I'd never wish on my daughter?
This is why they fear your rest.
Because a rested Black woman doesn't just recover—
she remembers who she is beneath the performance.
We Are Our Ancestors' Wildest Disruption
Our mothers, grandmothers, aunties—they did what they had to do with impossible grace.
They labored under weight that would crush mountains.
They birthed nations and buried their dreams in silence.
They endured so we could imagine. They survived so we could choose.
Choosing rest is not betrayal of their sacrifice—it's completion of it.
Every nap you take without guilt is an answered prayer they never got to speak.
Every boundary you set is ancestral justice they never got to claim.
Every "no" that protects your peace is holy work they dreamed you'd do.
They broke themselves so we could break the cycle. Your rest honors their dreams of freedom.
When you choose rest over performance, you give them the peace they never received.
When you prioritize your wellbeing, you live the life they never got to choose.
Your healing is their liberation.
Your rest is their release.
Your Body Isn't Lying—She's Speaking Truth
You think your migraines are random?
Your insomnia just "part of life"?
Your back pain, your digestive issues, your constant tension—just aging?
That's not aging.
That's your body in full rebellion.
Your body is wise. She keeps the receipts of every betrayal:
Every "I'm fine" that wasn't true.
Every skipped meal because someone else needed you.
Every 60-hour workweek you justified as necessary.
Every family emergency you handled alone while everyone else had "boundaries."
Every emotion you stuffed so others could stay comfortable.
She's not punishing you—she's protecting you.
She's screaming so you'll finally listen.
Your body is your oldest ancestor, carrying wisdom that knows:
Rest is not optional. It's essential.
The Audacity of Self-Care
Let them call you selfish when you choose rest.
Let them whisper.
Let them question your priorities.
They don't have to understand.
They weren't asked.
Your rest is not for their comfort,
it's for your spiritual survival.
I
t's not indulgence.
It's intelligence.
It's not weakness.
It's divine wisdom.
It's not retreat.
It's revolution.
The audacity to rest is the audacity to be human in systems that demand you be superhuman.
You don't owe the world your constant performance.
You don't have to collapse to feel worthy.
You are not the emotional infrastructure of everybody else's convenience.
You get to put yourself first.
Without an apology.
Without a spreadsheet.
Without guilt.
Rebellion in Small Moments
They lied and said revolution had to be loud. But rest?
Rest is a quiet uprising that starts in the smallest moments:
⮞ Five minutes alone in the car, just breathing and connecting to your center.
⮞ A full lunch break with your phone on "Do Not Disturb" and your spirit on "receiving mode."
⮞ Sleeping in on Saturday, letting the dishes wait while your soul restores.
⮞ Saying "I'm not available for that" without adding reasons, explanations, or alternatives.
⮞ Letting grown folks handle their own drama while you tend your own garden.
That's how the revolution begins—one intentional pause at a time.
When Rest Feels Impossible
I hear you:
"I don't have time to rest."
"People depend on me."
"I'll rest when everything is handled."
But what if rest isn't a break from the important work—what if it IS the important work?
What if rest is the clarity that comes before divine decisions?
What if it's the breath that creates space between stimulus and response?
What if it's the moment you stop absorbing everyone else's energy and start choosing your own?
Rest isn't weakness—it's the deepest wisdom our ancestors knew.
And sometimes rest doesn't look like sleep.
Sometimes it looks like asking for help.
Or saying "not today."
Or doing it imperfectly and letting that be enough.
Rest is anything that says: I am mine before I am theirs.
Rest as Spiritual Practice
In every spiritual tradition worth its salt, rest is holy: The Sabbath is sacred. Meditation is sacred. Silence is sacred.
So why have we made ourselves a sacrificial offering to everyone else's urgency?
Your rest is not laziness—it's liturgy.
It honors the divine spark within you that exists beyond roles, responsibilities, and other people's expectations.
When you rest, you return to yourself—not the mother, the partner, the achiever, the fixer.
Just you. And that's enough.
This is soul-care: treating yourself like the ancestor you're becoming.
Let the Disruption Begin
You don't need a vacation to begin your rest revolution. You just need this moment.
Today, try one act of intentional rebellion:
⮞ Turn your phone off at 8 p.m. and trust that the world will survive.
⮞ Say no and don't explain why they don't deserve your energy.
⮞ Leave the laundry where it is and choose presence over productivity.
⮞ Put your name at the top of the care list where it belongs.
Rest isn't what happens when the work is done.
Rest is what makes the meaningful work possible.
Your Permission Slip
You are not a machine. You are not infinite.
You are not for everyone's convenience.
You are a whole woman walking in divine timing.
With needs. Desires. Limits.
And a soul that deserves tenderness.
You don't need permission to rest, but here it is anyway:
Permission to rest without guilt.
Permission to protect your peace like your spiritual life depends on it—because it does.
Permission to redefine strength as the audacity to choose yourself.
Permission to honor the sacred within you that says, “I ’am not here to be depleted.”
If This Truth Resonates, You're Not Alone
If these words landed in your body like release, it's because something in you is ready to reclaim rest as resistance.
I lived this too. I ran on empty until my body forced me to stop.
I built Beneath the Bloom for the woman who's ready to embrace divine timing over their urgency.
Here, you'll find soul-infused offerings to meet you in every phase of your becoming, and the quiet reclamation of all that was always yours.
🌀 This Time, I Choose Me—a guided journal for choosing rest as revolution.
Preorders open July 15. When you're ready, it will be waiting.
🌀 Sister Circles —where rest is honored, not questioned.
🌀 1:1 Bloomkeeper Sessions—to help you untangle from grind and root in grace.
🌀 Nirvana by BTB—spiritual tools to anchor your return to rhythm.
🌀 A retreat where your body remembers it was never built for burnout.
You don't need to prove yourself to rest.
You don't need to earn clarity, softness, or care.
You just need a place to lay it all down.
🖤And you have one now.
You are not lazy.
You are not weak.
You are not too much.
You are a disruption. A liberation. A divine refusal to be consumed.
The revolution begins with you choosing your humanity over their comfort, one breath at a time.
