In this Issue:

Imagine for a moment that your peace is a little sanctuary inside you, a cozy room with soft light, comfy pillows, your favorite playlist in the background. 

When you protect that space, you make better decisions. You speak more kindly. You show up as the version of you who is grounded, present, and real. When you don’t protect it, that sanctuary turns into a crowded waiting room where everyone’s needs arrive first, and yours never make it past the door. No wonder you feel drained.

Most of us weren’t taught how to do this. Growing up, you might have learned that “good girls” don’t rock the boat. They help. They fix. They make sure everyone is okay, even if they aren’t. Maybe you watched the adults in your life push through exhaustion and smile anyway. Maybe you were praised for being “so responsible,” “so strong,” “so dependable,” code for “You’re great at ignoring your own needs.” It makes perfect sense that now, as an adult, choosing yourself feels foreign, uncomfortable, even a little scary.

So, when you finally start to protect your peace, by not answering every call right away, by saying “I can’t do that this week,” by stepping out of conversations that feel heavy, you can expect guilt to show up. Not because you’re doing something wrong, but because you’re doing something new. 

Guilt is often just an old script, not a sign you’re a bad person. It’s a sign you’re stepping out of your usual role as the always-available, always-accommodating version of you; and that version, as lovable as she is, has been carrying way too much for way too long.

Think about the times you’ve pushed past your limit. 

You agreed to help someone even though you were exhausted, and then you snapped at someone you love later. You said yes to an event when all you wanted was a quiet night at home, and you spent the next day emotionally hungover. You scrolled through social media instead of resting, and your anxiety sky-rocketed. 

None of that made you a better friend, partner, or professional. It just left you more tired and a little bit mad at yourself for not listening.

Now, picture a different version of you. This you pauses before saying yes. She checks in with her body: “Do I actually have the energy for this?” She lets messages sit for a bit instead of jumping to respond. She chooses one event and gracefully declines the others. She steps away from conversations that feel toxic or draining, not because she doesn’t care, but because she finally understands her soul is not a dumping ground. She protects her mornings, her rest, her creative time, her mental health… and does so with a quiet confidence that says, “My peace matters, too.”