You Have Permission to Rest — Even If the Guilt Still Lingers
“You can’t keep going at this pace,” she said quietly.
“You’re lost. And you’re exhausted.”
We were sitting side by side, and I still remember the weight of that moment. She touched my leg gently, looked straight into my eyes, and said what I hadn’t been able to admit to myself.
Lisa wasn’t just a friend. She was my boss, my mentor, my colleague, and someone who had been watching me slowly unravel for almost a year.
She saw it before I did. She saw the hollow look in my eyes, the nervous energy that buzzed under every conversation. She saw me show up to work looking exhausted, sometimes late, scattered, not really there. And she held her tongue, letting me hold my own boundaries… until she couldn’t anymore.
Because behind the curtain, I was barely functioning. I was running on fumes with a packed schedule.
Telling myself I was fine. Keeping it all together during the day, then collapsing in private by numbing out. I thought I was hiding it — but Lisa knew. She had known all along.
And that moment? It wasn’t a confrontation. It was a lifeline.
She gave me something I didn’t even know I needed:
Permission.
We Are All Waiting for Permission
For years, I’d felt this whisper inside:
“What about me?”
But I never let myself say it out loud. It felt selfish. Indulgent. Weak.
No one had ever acknowledged what I was carrying — until that day with Lisa.
In that split second, she saw me. Not just the version of me that showed up to meetings or hit deadlines. She saw the person behind the performance.
She was offering something sacred: the chance to step off the hamster wheel. To stop holding it all together. To rest.
And I’ve since realized… so many of us are waiting for that moment. That model. That mirror.
We wait for someone else to show us it’s okay:
- To slow down
- To say no
- To stop pretending we’re fine
- To take a break
We wait for permission. And when someone gives it, the guilt and shame begin to loosen.
If they can do it… Maybe I can too.
So let me say this clearly — in case you need to hear it today:
You have permission.
To rest.
To pause.
To change direction.
And yes — the guilt might still be there. That’s okay.
It’s not either/or.
It’s both/and.
And if you’re nodding along, maybe even holding back tears as you read this, please know:
You’re not broken for needing a break. You’re human.
Why This Challenge Exists (The Hidden Root Cause)
This guilt isn’t just yours. It’s inherited. Conditioned. Baked into how many of us were taught to survive.
You might have learned to define yourself by how much you could hold — how much you could get done, how useful you could be.
Maybe your parents were physically present but emotionally absent so you learned to keep pushing forward emotionally and override your needs, one of those being rest.
Maybe you had to be your own parent.
Maybe you learned early to over-function just to feel safe. To stay in motion so no one would look too closely. Or stay in motion so another bad thing wouldn’t happen.
In some households, rest simply wasn’t an option.
Not because it wasn’t valued — but because it wasn’t available.
There was too much to do. Too many mouths to feed. Too many stressors to manage.
Everyone was stretched thin, and survival depended on constant motion.
In those environments, resting could feel dangerous. Or selfish. Or like a betrayal of the collective effort. Or just frankly not possible.
So you internalized the rhythm of that household — and now, even when your circumstances are different, the pace remains.
Even now, as an adult, that pattern lives in your nervous system:
- Rest = unsafe
- Rest = not enough
- Rest = selfish
So you keep going. You get good at pretending you’re okay. You wear exhaustion like a badge of honor — all while secretly longing for someone to tap you on the shoulder and say:
“You can stop now.”
But the truth is: you don’t need someone else to give you permission.
You can learn to give it to yourself.
It’s okay if that feels foreign at first. It still does for me at times.
Most of us were never taught how to rest or what rest can even look like.
Let me pause here and ask: What rhythms did you grow up in?
Can you trace back to the earliest time when rest felt unsafe or unavailable?
Bringing awareness to those roots is the first step toward healing them.
Rest Is Not Selfish. It’s Sacred.
Here’s the reframe that changed everything for me:
Work and rest are not enemies. They are partners.
You need both. Not just to be productive, but to be whole.
The blend is the strength.
Rest isn’t indulgent. It’s intelligent. It recalibrates your nervous system. It restores your clarity. It makes your presence deeper, not weaker.
And it is not something you earn.
It is something you deserve by virtue of being human.
We’ve been taught to believe rest is a luxury. Something you squeeze in after everything is done. But the truth is:
Rest is part of the work.
It’s what allows you to keep going in a way that doesn’t cost you your health, your joy, or your self-respect.
But… What About the Guilt?
Let’s be honest. Even when you know rest is sacred… the guilt still shows up.
You finally carve out a day off, but can’t stop checking your phone.
You try to take a nap, but your brain won’t stop spinning.
You sit down with a cup of tea, and your chest tightens with anxiety.
You wonder:
“Shouldn’t I be doing something right now?”
Here’s what I want you to hear:
That guilt doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong.
It means you’re breaking a pattern.
It’s the discomfort of reconditioning.
It’s the voice of your old survival strategies — not the truth of who you are becoming.
So let it be there. Let it hum in the background. But don’t let it drive. Don’t get into a battle with it.
You can feel guilty and still rest.
You can feel unproductive and still close the laptop.
You can feel undeserving and still take the damn nap.
Eventually, the guilt gets quieter.
And you start to hear something else underneath it:
peace.
A Grounding Practice for Nervous System Safety
If rest still feels unsafe, try this gentle drop-in to help your body come back to the present:
The Five Senses Anchor
When you feel guilt or anxiety rise as you rest, ask yourself:
- What are five things I can see?
- What are four things I can hear?
- What are three things I can touch?
- What are two things I can smell?
- What’s one thing I can taste?
This isn’t just a mindfulness trick, it’s nervous system medicine.
It reminds your body:
It’s okay to be here. I am not in danger. Stillness is safe.
Over time, these small moments of safety stack up.
And resting stops feeling like a rebellion, and starts feeling like home.
You Don’t Have to Burn Out to Earn It
Let me offer you this choice:
You can feel the discomfort after burnout — when your body shuts down, when you have nothing left, when the only option is collapse…
Or you can feel the discomfort now — when it’s still soft, still manageable, still part of a conscious shift.
Discomfort is inevitable.
But one kind leads to depletion.
The other leads to healing.
Rest Isn’t Always a Bubble Bath: A Real-World Roadmap
Let’s talk about something that rarely gets said in those “self-care Sunday” posts:
When you’re deeply burned out, the idea of resting can feel insulting.
Being told to “just slow down” or “go take a bubble bath” when your life feels like it’s on fire? It’s not helpful. It’s dismissive.
Most people aren’t burned out because they forgot how to light candles.
They’re burned out because:
- They’re holding more than is humanly possible
- Their nervous system has been in survival mode for years
- They’ve never seen rest modeled in a way that’s realistic, regulating, or restorative
So let’s redefine rest. Not as escapism, but as resourcing.
Not as a spa day (though that’s lovely too), but as a way of saying:
“My body deserves safety. My mind deserves quiet. My spirit deserves nourishment.”
Here’s a gentler, more realistic roadmap, especially if you don’t even know where to begin.
1. Regulate Before You Recharge
Before you can even feel rested, your nervous system needs to come down from red alert.
Try:
- Laying on the floor with your legs up the wall
- Rocking gently side to side while seated
- Humming or sighing audibly
- Taking 3–5 conscious exhales longer than your inhales
- Walking in silence without a podcast or phone
These aren’t “hacks” they’re ways of telling your body:
“It’s okay. You can stop bracing.”
2. Micro-Rest Over Macro-Retreats
If a full day off feels impossible, try starting with ten minutes of real pause.
Try:
- Staring out the window and letting your eyes rest on something still
- Making tea with no multitasking
- Setting a 7-minute timer to do nothing and noticing how your body reacts
Sometimes rest is less about time, and more about presence.
3. Do Something ‘Useless’ (On Purpose)
Rest isn’t just about not working, it’s about remembering your aliveness.
Try:
- Finger painting
- Listening to music with your eyes closed
- Rearranging furniture for fun
- Reading fiction in the middle of the day
- Doodling, humming, wandering, wondering, daydreaming
The point isn’t productivity. It’s pleasure, play, and pause.
4. Say No (Then Don’t Fill the Space)
Sometimes rest isn’t about doing something… but not doing what drains you.
Try:
- Cancelling one non-essential meeting
- Declining a “should” and letting the discomfort pass
- Leaving a text unanswered for 24 hours
Then — and this is the key — don’t fill that space with something else.
Let the quiet stay quiet.
5. Make It Visible. Make It Normal.
If you’re a leader, creator, or space-holder, people are watching how you live.
When you normalize rest, you give permission to others.
Try:
- Sharing how you’re resting (without guilt or explanation)
- Modeling boundaries around your time and energy
- Speaking kindly about your own capacity
This isn’t performative.
Modeling rest is an act of leadership.
A New Definition of Strength
What if your strength wasn’t in how much you could carry — but in knowing when to put it down?
What if the most radical, responsible, grown-up thing you could do was to say:
“I matter too.”
Not after the deadline. Not when everyone else is taken care of. Not once you’ve earned it through suffering.
Now.
Because the people who love you don’t need you burnt out and bitter.
They need you whole.
A Soft Invitation
Let this be the moment you stop waiting for someone to tell you it’s okay.
You have permission to rest.
Even if it makes you nervous.
Even if it feels unfamiliar.
Even if there are still unchecked boxes on your to-do list.
Start where you are.
Start small.
Start now.
And if you need someone to model it for you, I’ll go first.
I’ll rest — so you remember you can too.
Kristi x
P.S. If this piece is calling to you, it is a part of a larger conversation. You can read more about worth and doing, burnout, hyper-responsibility and more through the blog.
P.S.S. If you’d like help navigating through your own rhythms and changes with rest, please reach out. I’d love to help.
