healing process

Put Your Own Mask On First

We hear it every time we board a plane: “In the event of a loss in cabin pressure, secure your own mask before assisting others.” It’s one of those instructions that seems counterintuitive—especially for the givers, the fixers, the caretakers among us. But when you stop to really think about it, it’s not just an airline safety rule—it’s a life lesson.

For a long time, I didn’t put on my own mask first. I’d jump in to help anyone else—whether they asked or not—believing it made me strong, loving, dependable. I was the one people could count on. But quietly, I was falling apart. I was suffocating. And I didn’t even realize it until I was gasping for air.

You Can’t Pour From an Empty Cup

We’ve all heard that saying, but how many of us actually live it?

If you’ve been conditioned to believe your worth is tied to your usefulness, rest might feel selfish. Saying no might feel wrong. Asking for space might trigger guilt. But here’s the truth: constantly abandoning yourself to show up for others isn’t noble—it’s a fast track to burnout, resentment, and disconnection.

When you give from depletion, your help comes with a cost. You’re exhausted. You’re short-fused. You’re giving, but secretly hoping for a thank you, some recognition, a return on your emotional investment. And when that doesn’t come? It hurts. Because beneath all that self-sacrifice, you’re still human.

Putting your own mask on first isn’t selfish—it’s survival. It’s sustainability. It’s strength. When you’re nourished, rested, grounded—you give from overflow, not from emptiness. And everyone benefits from that version of you.

Self-Care Isn’t a Luxury—It’s a Responsibility

Somewhere along the way, we started seeing self-care as optional—as a bubble bath or a bonus. But self-care is how you keep yourself whole. It’s how you stay aligned. It’s the system check that makes sure you’re not running on fumes.

It’s not always glamorous. Sometimes, self-care is a boundary. Sometimes it’s canceling plans. Sometimes it’s letting someone else figure it out, even when you could fix it. It’s trusting that people can handle their own discomfort—and that it’s not your job to keep everything calm.

The truth is, constantly putting others first is often rooted in fear: What if they get mad? What if they leave? What if they think I’m selfish?

But ask yourself this: If you keep abandoning yourself to meet everyone else’s needs, what are you teaching them? That your needs don’t matter. That you’ll always sacrifice yourself. That love looks like martyrdom.

It doesn’t.

Show Up for You—First

Putting your own mask on first means taking inventory of your energy. It means asking: Am I okay? What do I need right now? Am I being honest about my limits?

When you start showing up for yourself, everything shifts. Your relationships become more balanced. Your boundaries become clearer. You stop saying yes when you mean no. You stop fixing what isn’t yours. And you start building a life that includes you.

This doesn’t mean you stop helping others. It just means you stop bleeding out for them. You choose to care without collapsing. You choose to support without suffocating. You choose to love from wholeness—not from empty lungs.

You’re not here to save everyone. You’re here to be you. And that’s more than enough.

So the next time you feel that urge to abandon yourself to keep the peace, to overextend just to be liked, or to put everyone ahead of you—pause. Breathe. Reach for your own mask first.

That’s not weakness. That’s wisdom.

SLAY Reflection

  1. Do you feel guilty putting your needs before others? Why?
  2. What areas of your life have suffered because you’ve neglected yourself?
  3. When was the last time you truly paused and checked in with you?
  4. How would your life change if you consistently put your needs first?
  5. What’s one small act of self-care you can commit to today?

S – Stop and assess what you really need
L – Let go of guilt tied to prioritizing yourself
A – Allow yourself to rest, recharge, and reset
Y – Yield to your own healing so you can truly thrive

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What does putting your own mask on first look like for you—and how has it changed your life?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who always puts themselves last, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

You Can’t Help Someone Who Doesn’t Want To Help Themselves

We’ve all been there—someone we care about comes to us, overwhelmed by their circumstances. We listen. We offer suggestions. But what they really want is a quick fix, and often, one that lets them off the hook from actually doing the work. Sometimes people just need a break, and it’s kind to help where we can. But more often, the most loving thing we can do is encourage them to help themselves.

My Turning Point

Before I began my recovery journey, I constantly looked to others to rescue me from my own messes. I played the victim, and life felt so unmanageable that it was easier to expect someone else to clean it up.

The truth? My thinking was broken. My perception was skewed. I had no healthy tools or coping mechanisms. So when I finally reached out for real help, I was asked one question that changed everything:

“What are you willing to do?”

And for the first time, I said: Anything.

That was the moment things shifted. I had to fall far enough down into despair before I became willing to fight for my life. And fight I did.

Recovery taught me that this new way of living would only work if I worked it. No one could do it for me. I had to believe I was worth the effort—and that belief became the spark that lit my path forward.

With each milestone I earned, my self-esteem and self-worth grew. I began to think about the younger version of myself—the one I’d neglected, the one I’d hurt. I made a commitment to her that I would never abandon her again. That’s who I fight for now. That’s who I protect.

Why Doing the Work Matters

You can’t do the work for someone else. And if you try, you’re actually robbing them of something vital: the opportunity to grow.

Growth comes from struggle. Strength is built through effort. Confidence is earned through consistency. When we do someone else’s heavy lifting, we deny them the chance to build the muscle they’ll need to stand on their own.

Of course, we can offer support. We can stand beside someone and remind them they’re not alone. But we must let them take the lead. Not only is it healthier for them—it’s healthier for us, too.

Practicing this kind of boundary is a form of self-respect. It’s a reminder that we’re not responsible for fixing everyone’s life. That people-pleasing, over-functioning, and rescuing don’t lead to healing—they often lead to resentment.

You can love someone deeply and still let them do their own work. In fact, that might be the greatest form of love there is.

SLAY on.

SLAY Reflection: Where Are You Over-Functioning?

  • Do you often take responsibility for someone else’s problems? Why?
  • How has doing your own inner work changed your sense of self-worth?
  • What lessons would you have missed if someone else had done the work for you?
  • Can you think of someone in your life who needs to do their own work? What boundary could you set to support them without enabling them?
  • How can standing beside someone—rather than carrying them—be an act of love?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one way you’ve learned to step back and let someone else do their own work—and how did that shift your relationship with them or yourself?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s always trying to rescue others, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a reminder that loving someone doesn’t mean fixing them.

Patience Is To Sit In Your Suffering

Patience is a skill I never had when I was living in the dark. I wanted what I wanted—and I wanted it now. If something took longer than I thought it should, I unraveled. I’d stew in my own anxiety, convinced that worrying over it somehow meant I was “doing something.” But it never helped. In fact, it only made things worse.

The reality is, I was causing myself more pain by holding on.

Suffering Is Optional (But It Doesn’t Feel That Way)

When I started my journey toward healing, I had to face a hard truth: patience isn’t passive. It’s active. It’s powerful. It’s choosing to sit still when every part of you wants to control, manipulate, and fast-forward the process.

I was taught something simple, yet profound—do the footwork and let go. And actually let go. Not say I would, then sit in agony while pretending to surrender. That took time. It still does. But every time I allowed myself to sit in discomfort, without reacting, something shifted.

Here’s what I learned: the suffering didn’t come from the waiting—it came from the clinging.

Letting Go of the Illusion of Control

So much of my anxiety came from the belief that I had to manage everything. I believed I had the best plan, the right answers, and the perfect timeline. But that was just my ego talking. And when I realized how wrong I’d been before—how lost and broken I felt trying to run the show—it humbled me.

I had to accept that I wasn’t the director of the universe. That my vision was limited. That maybe—just maybe—there was a bigger plan unfolding, and my job was to participate, not dictate.

That’s where the power of patience lives. Not in forcing, but in trusting. Not in pushing, but in practicing peace. And the more I practiced, the less I suffered.

Choosing Peace Over Pressure

Let’s be honest—letting go is not easy. Especially when we care deeply about the outcome. But once we start to realize that the suffering is self-inflicted—that it’s not coming from the waiting, but how we wait—it becomes easier to breathe through it.

The truth is, when we choose to surrender, we reclaim our power.

Patience doesn’t mean inaction. It means taking the action that’s yours, and then releasing what isn’t. It means being OK with not knowing, trusting that the right things will unfold in the right time. That may feel uncomfortable at first. But comfort isn’t the goal—freedom is.

And freedom comes when we stop clinging to control and let go of the suffering we’ve been dragging around.

SLAY on.

SLAY OF THE DAY: Reflect & Release

  • Do you try to force outcomes instead of letting things unfold?

  • What’s the cost of that tension—emotionally, mentally, physically?

  • How do you feel when you’re able to truly let go?

  • What fear is keeping you in the suffering?

  • What step can you take today to release control and choose peace?

Suffering shows us where we’re clinging. Let it be your invitation to let go.

Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one area of your life where you’re holding on instead of letting go?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s struggling to sit in the waiting, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is permission to pause.

Someone Is Praying for What You Have Right Now

It’s easy to forget how far we’ve come.

On the hard days—when we feel lost, stuck, or like we’re not where we think we should be—it can be hard to see our own progress. We lose sight of the blessings. We downplay our growth. We focus on what’s missing instead of what’s already here.

But the truth is, someone out there is praying for what you have right now.

Even if it feels small to you. Even if you’re struggling. Even if today doesn’t feel like a victory.
To someone else, your “hard day” might look like a dream come true.

Gratitude Lives in Perspective

Not long ago, I was sitting with a group of women I see regularly. One of them was sharing how far she’s come over the last three years, and she said something that stopped me in my tracks:

“On the days I feel low, I remind myself—there’s someone out there praying for what I have right now.”

That. That’s the perspective shift.

Even when we don’t feel our best. Even when things aren’t perfect. Even when we feel behind or broken or unsure—there’s someone out there who would give anything to be where we are.

Your Journey Is Worth Honoring

Everyone’s path is different. No two stories are the same. But most of us tend to minimize our own milestones, especially on the darker days. We often see our blessings last, long after others have already noticed the light within us.

But that doesn’t mean they’re not there.
You’ve come a long way—even if today doesn’t feel like it.

There were times in my life when I would’ve given anything to have the life I have now… even on my hardest day. I know what it’s like to feel like every day is a worst day. But I also know what it’s like to come through the other side—and forget, for a moment, just how far I’ve traveled.

That’s why I share my story. That’s why I speak about mental health and addiction. Because it reminds me—and others—that our stories matter. That our journeys aren’t over. And that someone out there might be waiting to hear exactly what we’ve been through so they can find their way forward.

Your Bad Day Might Be Someone Else’s Breakthrough

We’re all allowed to have our feelings. We’re allowed to be frustrated, tired, or sad. But we can also hold those feelings alongside a deep awareness of how much good exists around us.

There are people out there who would give anything for what we might take for granted. And that’s not about guilt—it’s about gratitude.

Gratitude grounds us.
It reminds us that we’ve already come through so much.
It keeps us humble.
And it helps us serve others from a place of truth, not perfection.

So even on the days when it’s hard to see the light—know that you are the light. And someone is praying for the glow you don’t even realize you have.

SLAY on.

SLAY OF THE DAY: Reflect & Rise

Are you focusing more on what you lack—or what you’ve already overcome?

  • Do you recognize the good in your life, or does your mind lean toward the negative?

  • What blessings do you have now that you once prayed for?

  • When was the last time you acknowledged how far you’ve come?

  • What steps have you taken to be where you are today?

  • How can you use gratitude to fuel your growth?

Your path has power. And your progress is worth celebrating—even on the hard days.

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s something you have today that you once dreamed of having?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s feeling stuck, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a reminder of how far we’ve already come.

Feelings Can’t Kill You, But Avoiding Them Can

We can’t outrun our feelings forever. We try. We bury them, numb them, distract ourselves from them. But in the end, what we avoid will eventually rise. And for some of us, like it was for me, it can become a matter of life and death. This is a story about learning to feel again—and finding freedom on the other side.

The Fear of Feeling

Before I started walking the path of recovery, I did everything I could to not feel. I didn’t care if the feeling was good or bad—I just didn’t want it. I got so good at pretending everything was fine that I started to believe it myself, until all that was left was the heaviness I’d shoved deep down. The more I numbed, the more detached I became—from others, from joy, from myself.

I turned to anything I could: food, shopping, relationships, alcohol, travel. And it worked, temporarily. But the feelings always bubbled back up. The older I got, the harder it became to keep them down. I was a pressure cooker on the brink of exploding. And when I couldn’t keep the lid on anymore, it nearly destroyed me.

What I Didn’t Know Then

I thought the only way to escape the pain was to end the struggle altogether. I believed no one would understand, that I was alone in what I was feeling. But that wasn’t true. I was just hiding so well that no one had the chance to see me. Luckily, someone did. Someone who had been where I was bravely shared their story with me—and gave me just enough hope to reach out.

It didn’t happen overnight. It took time, more suffering, and finally a breaking point. But I reached out. And that changed everything.

The Tsunami of Emotion

When I began my recovery, I was told I’d have to learn to feel again—and that it would be OK. That idea terrified me. I hadn’t felt my feelings since I was a kid, and those childhood wounds were exactly what I’d been running from. But I couldn’t keep running anymore.

And when I stopped, it hit like a tsunami. Decades of anger, shame, fear, resentment, grief, and heartbreak came crashing in. There were days I could barely get out of bed. Days I clung to my mattress or curled in the bathtub, afraid I’d drown in it all. But you know what? I didn’t drown. I survived. And each time I allowed myself to feel, the intensity lessened. With the support of others, therapy, and time—I began to heal.

Feeling Doesn’t Mean Failing

What I’ve learned is that feelings are just information. They’re not good or bad—they just are. They tell us what we care about, what hurts, what needs our attention. Feeling them doesn’t make us weak. Avoiding them is what breaks us down.

It took time, but I began to see that not only was it safe to feel my feelings—it was necessary. And it was also OK to feel good. That was a big one. After so much pain, it took work to believe I deserved to feel joy. But I did. And so do you.

Choose to Feel

Today, I still check in with myself often. Some feelings are harder than others. Some still scare me. But I know I can face them now. And I know I don’t have to face them alone.

Your feelings can’t kill you—but avoiding them can. They are part of your story, and they deserve to be heard. You deserve to feel, to process, to heal. Take your time. Ask for help. Let the emotions teach you something. Let them show you who you are.

Because when you stop running, that’s when the real journey begins.

SLAY on.

SLAY Reflection

  1. Do you avoid certain feelings? What are they?
  2. How do you typically numb or distract yourself when emotions get hard?
  3. What’s one feeling you’re afraid to face—and why?
  4. Who in your life could support you in feeling safely?
  5. What might change if you let yourself fully feel, without judgment?

S-L-A-Y:

  • Stop numbing and start noticing.
  • Let your emotions rise without shame.
  • Ask for support when you need it.
  • You are allowed to feel—and to heal.

Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one feeling you’ve been avoiding—and what’s one small way you could start feeling it today?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s struggling to feel, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.