Bitch, Just Be.

These days between Christmas and New Year’s always do something to me. I feel this intense urge to be so fucking productive like I’m supposed to be resetting, planning, moving forward. And of course, my body decided to do the complete opposite and catch a cold instead. Now I’m behind.

What’s funny is I wasn’t really around people like that, but I’m pretty sure I picked it up during one of my vending events and it just fully manifested on Christmas Day. Since then, I’ve been struggling with being still. My body is forcing me to rest, recover, and reflect, while my energy wants to fight it every step of the way.

It’s kind of sad when I really think about it. I thrive off feeling busy or at least thinking I’m busy when a lot of the time it’s just a façade. A mask I wear so I don’t have to sit with the idea that maybe I don’t feel worthy of resting. Or slowing down. Or doing nothing.

And this is coming from someone who’s been working since she was 15 and nine months old. I’m 35 now. I’ve been a full-time entrepreneur since 2019, working my ass off nonstop. I genuinely love to work. I love structure. I love being productive. But I also know logically that it should be okay to rest. To be still. To not always be “on.”

Yet here I am, slightly sick, slightly frustrated, slightly sad, writing this instead of actually resting.

I guess this is less of a traditional blog and more of a self-reflection. Maybe even a reminder. That so many of us carry this quiet guilt when we’re forced to step back. When our bodies make the decision for us. When we’re required to slow down and really get ourselves together instead of pushing through.

Maybe rest isn’t laziness.

Maybe stillness isn’t failure.

Maybe it’s just part of the work too.