I don’t usually write posts like this, but I think it’s time I let some of this out. Lately, I’ve been carrying around a kind of heaviness that just won’t go away, and honestly, I’m tired.
I’m tired of being the one who always shows up. The one who listens. The one who gives.
The one who tries, again and again, to be kind, uplifting, generous, despite the fact that I rarely, if ever, feel like I am those things. I do it because that’s who I want to be. That’s who I choose to be. Not because I’m chasing praise or recognition, but because I believe in being a good person. I believe in being there for people when they need someone. That’s always been a core value of mine, but what happens when that kindness turns into currency people just spend on you?
Because that’s what it’s starting to feel like.
I’m not a therapist. I’m not a bank. I’m not a dumping ground. And yet, time after time, I find myself being treated like I am. People come into my life needing help, comfort, money, time and I give it. Not because I have an abundance of any of those things, but because I genuinely care. And far too often, once they’ve gotten what they wanted, they vanish. Or worse, they stay just long enough to keep taking more. They don't ask how I'm doing. They don’t notice when I’m burning out. They don’t even realize the emotional labor I’m doing to hold space for them.
No, they just ghost me, or make excuses as to why they no longer come around!
It makes me feel disposable. Like I’m just a pit stop on someone else’s journey to feeling better. And here’s the part that really hurts: I know it is not everyone. I know there are good people out there. I know the whole community isn’t like this. But right now, it is hard to see the forest through the smoke. Because when you’ve been burned enough times, even the trees start to look like matches.
So I’m pulling back.
I’m done bending over backward to accommodate people who only want what they can take. I’m done absorbing other people’s trauma while mine sits quietly in the corner, ignored. I’m done being the strong one while I fall apart behind the scenes.
If you’re carrying something heavy and need to unload it please, go to a therapist. Go journal. Go scream into a pillow. But don’t come to me expecting free emotional labor just because I’ve always said yes in the past. That door is closing.
I still believe in kindness. I still believe in community. But I’m learning that those things have to be mutual not transactional. So for the ones who’ve been genuine, who have checked in, who do see me, I appreciate you more than you know. Truly. But for the rest? I’m out of energy. Out of patience. Out of bandwidth. And I think that’s okay. I deserve boundaries too.