There is a lie so many women are living under, and it’s rarely spoken out loud.
The lie says:
If you slow down, something bad will happen.
If you rest, you’ll lose momentum.
If you cancel, you’ll be punished.
If you stop producing, you’ll stop being worthy.
I know this lie well—because I’ve lived by it.
I’ve hustled not because I love the grind, but because fear told me I had to.
Fear of not enough money.
Fear of being abandoned again.
Fear that if I don’t keep proving my value, everything I’ve built could disappear.
And the truth?
That fear has been quietly killing my nervous system.
When Hustle Becomes a Trauma Response
We don’t talk enough about how hustle can be rooted in trauma.
For many women, especially those who have lived through instability, betrayal, financial fear, or abandonment, pushing through becomes a form of control.
If I keep working, I’ll be okay.
If I keep showing up, I won’t be left.
If I keep producing, I won’t be forgotten.
But here’s what I’m learning the hard way:
What once protected me is now hurting me.
My body has started speaking louder than my mind.
My sleep has been disrupted.
My nervous system has been overloaded.
Even the data—my Oura ring—finally said what my soul already knew:
“Your body is under major stress.”
And still… I argued with myself.
“I could probably still do it.”
“It’s $125.”
“I don’t want to let anyone down.”
“What if my business suffers?”
But the deeper question whispered underneath all of that was this:
At what cost?
The Day I Canceled—and Didn’t Collapse
I canceled a session recently because I simply wasn’t up for it.
And instead of relief, guilt rushed in.
That guilt wasn’t about the client.
It was about an old belief that says rest is dangerous.
That if I pause, I’ll lose something.
That if I choose myself, I’ll be punished.
That if I don’t push through, I’ll pay for it later.
But here’s what didn’t happen:
My business didn’t fall apart.
God didn’t withdraw His provision.
The ground didn’t open up beneath me.
What did happen?
I listened to my body.
I honored my healing.
I showed up for myself.
And for the first time, I saw clearly:
Pushing through has been punishing me.
Hustle Is Not the Same as Faithfulness
Somewhere along the way, many of us confused exhaustion with obedience.
We thought:
Being tired meant we were doing enough.
Being depleted meant we were faithful.
Being constantly “on” meant we were responsible.
But rest is not rebellion.
Healing is not laziness.
Listening to your body is not a lack of discipline.
You are not more worthy when you are worn down.
You are not safer when you are exhausted.
And you are not more lovable when you ignore your limits.
God has never asked us to destroy ourselves to prove our trust.
Dear Little Girl…
You are allowed to rest without everything falling apart.
You are allowed to cancel without being punished.
You are allowed to heal without hustling.
You are allowed to trust that provision doesn’t disappear when you pause.
Money is not your protector.
Productivity is not your savior.
And fear is a terrible boss.
You were never meant to carry your life by yourself.
What is meant for you will not be taken because you chose rest.
What is built with God will not collapse because you listened to your body.
What is sustainable will still be there when you come back.
This season isn’t about doing less forever.
It’s about learning that you don’t have to suffer to be safe.
And maybe—just maybe—
when enough women stop hustling for worth,
our bodies will heal,
our homes will breathe again,
and our kiddos will learn a different way.
One where rest is holy.
Trust is practiced.
And love is not earned through exhaustion.
