You Don’t Owe Anyone Your Exhaustion

This summer, choose joy. Not as denial, but as direction.

There is no trophy for suffering.
There is no prize for being the most exhausted person in the room.
And there is no freedom in constantly performing pain to prove your humanity.

But so many of us have been taught to do exactly that, especially as Black women.

We’ve been praised for surviving the impossible.
We’ve been expected to be the strongest person in every room.
We’ve been told our pain is proof of our power.

And now? We’re watching it all play out again.

Another trauma spiral on the timeline.
Another film where Black women’s suffering is the entire storyline.
Another day of emotional labor disguised as “representation.”

Let me say this clearly: you don’t owe the world your exhaustion.

Not to your job.
Not to your timeline.
Not even to your healing journey.

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The Summer of Yes Is a Sacred Reclamation

This summer, I’m offering something different.
A refusal. A redirection.
A radical yes to joy, rest, and softness.

You are allowed to center your healing, not your harm.
You are allowed to choose ease without apology.
You are allowed to move toward joy—not someday, not when the world gets better—but right now.

This is not about ignoring grief or pretending trauma doesn’t exist.
We’ve all held heartache in our hands. We know how to sit with sorrow.

But we struggle (deeply struggle) to hold hope rooted in joy.
Not hope someday.
Not hope in theory.
Hope anchored in joy, practiced daily.

That’s the shift I’m calling in.

That’s the posture of my Summer of Yes.

This summer, I’m saying yes to:

• Twirling, even when the world is heavy

• Beautiful meals and silent mornings

• Boundaries that don’t come with long explanations

• Being more than what hurt me

You are not someone created for suffering.
You are not a machine built to endure.
You are a person. A full, beautiful, complex person. And you are allowed to feel good.

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A Roadmap: From Centering Pain to Practicing Joy

So how do we stop centering pain?
How do we move from trauma loops into something softer, something livable?

Here are four gentle practices that are helping me anchor into joy—not performatively, but honestly and practically.

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1. Redirect Conversations with Love, Not Avoidance

We don’t have to pretend things are fine. However, we also don’t have to stay stuck in a cycle of despair.
When someone opens up about how hard things are, listen. Then gently offer another way in.

Try:
“That’s so real, and I’ve been holding a lot, too. One thing that’s been helping me is…”

Then name a joy practice: coloring, walking, romanticizing your morning routine.
Not to fix the pain, but to balance it with beauty.

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2. Make Space for Beauty, Even in Small Ways

Pick a space, just one, and fill it with joy.
Clear a corner. Add a candle. A flower. A framed quote that reminds you you’re worthy of softness.
Let your space speak life over you.

Even a small corner can become sacred ground.

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3. Curate What You Consume

You don’t have to read every think piece.
You don’t have to repost every outrage.
You don’t have to carry every headline in your heart.

You can mute.
You can log off.
You can build a joy feed that nourishes you.

One of the ways I’m doing that is on Pinterest. I’m creating a Summer of Yes board filled with softness, ease, beauty, and joy; visual reminders that peace is still possible.
You can check it out [here].

Let joy be the algorithm.

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4. Ritualize Joy Like It’s Sacred

Pick one small joy practice and do it on purpose.
Color for 15 minutes.
Take a silent walk.
Drink your coffee slowly.
Listen to music in the bath.

Whatever it is, let it matter. Let it root you.

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Choose Joy, Not for Show, For You.

You will always have access to pain.
It will find you. Because we live in this world.

But joy? Joy must be chosen. And choosing it doesn’t make you naïve.
It makes you alive.

Let this summer be the season where you stop performing pain and start practicing joy.
Let this be your Summer of Yes.

Yes to softness.
Yes to rest.
Yes to joy that lives in the body, not just the idea.
Yes to hope that is rooted (not in fantasy)but in something real.

Because you deserve to feel good now.
Not after the healing.
Not after the world changes.
Right now.

And if you're not sure where to begin, maybe start here—with this post. With one tiny yes.

Let this be the start of your own Summer of Yes.

P.S. If you want to go deeper, I talk more about this in the “Summer of Yes” podcast episode. You can listen to it [here].

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Let’s Reflect

What are you saying yes to this summer?
What small act of joy are you claiming as yours?

Leave a note in the comments or forward this to someone who’s ready to put down their exhaustion and pick up something lighter.