Crow and Flame

There was a time when I did not know where I ended and other people began.

I mistook accessibility for intimacy.

I mistook exhaustion for purpose.

I mistook over-giving for love.

My calendar was full.

My body was tired.

My spirit was thinning.

And still, I said yes.

Yes to conversations that drained me.

Yes to expectations I never agreed to.

Yes to roles I outgrew but felt obligated to maintain.

Yes to being the strong one, the steady one, the available one.

I thought if I made myself indispensable, I would be irreplaceable.

But here is what I learned the hard way:

When you make yourself endlessly available, people stop recognizing your value.

When you make your time cheap, people spend it carelessly.

When you ignore your own limits, your body will enforce them.

Burnout is not a mystery.

It is the bill for chronic self-abandonment.

And I was abandoning myself in subtle ways.

Explaining too much.

Apologizing for needing rest.

Answering messages when my chest felt tight.

Saying “it’s fine” when it wasn’t.

Allowing interruptions to my creative work because I didn’t believe it mattered as much as everyone else’s urgency.

But my work matters.

My rest matters.

My peace matters.

I see that now.

Time is not just hours.

It is life force.

It is mornings with a clear mind.

It is evenings without resentment.

It is the quiet space where stories form and healing happens.

When I give my time thoughtlessly, I am giving away pieces of my life I will never get back.

My space is not empty air.

It is nervous system safety.

It is the difference between hypervigilance and calm.

It is the sanctuary where my creativity can breathe without being critiqued, demanded from, or consumed.

And my energy — my energy is sacred.

It is emotional labor.

It is mental load.

It is the unseen work of holding everything together.

For years, I carried more than my share because I believed that was what strong women did.

We endure.

We manage.

We absorb.

We fix.

But strength without boundaries becomes self-erasure.

Boundaries are not cruelty.

They are clarity.

They say:

This is what I am available for.

This is what I am not.

This is how you may speak to me.

This is how you may not.

This is the access you have.

This is where it ends.

They are not punishments.

They are protection.

The crow understands distance.

It watches. It assesses. It does not dive into every noise.

The flame understands discernment.

It does not burn for everything.

It chooses what it will transform.

I am learning from both.

I no longer answer immediately just because someone expects me to.

I no longer overexplain my no.

I no longer sacrifice my creative hours to prove I am agreeable.

I no longer make myself small so others can stay comfortable.

There will be people who do not like this version of me.

The version with limits.

The version who pauses.

The version who asks, “Does this cost me too much?”

But the people who benefited from my lack of boundaries are not the ones who get to define my worth.

And here is the deepest truth:

I do not set boundaries because I think I am better than anyone.

I set them because I finally understand I am not less.

I see my worth.

Not as arrogance.

Not as ego.

But as inherent.

I do not have to earn rest.

I do not have to earn softness.

I do not have to earn creative space.

I do not have to earn respect.

I was worthy before I overextended.

I was worthy before I proved myself.

I was worthy before I survived what I survived.

Now, I protect that worth.

With time carved out for what matters.

With space guarded from chaos.

With energy invested intentionally, not reactively.

If you feel the ache of overextension…

if your body is tired of carrying what isn’t yours…

if resentment has started whispering that something is off…

Listen.

That whisper is not selfishness.

It is self-awareness waking up.

Protect your time.

Protect your space.

Protect your energy.

You are not required to bleed to be loved.

You are not required to exhaust yourself to be valuable.

You are not required to disappear to belong.

The crow sees clearly.

The flame burns deliberately.

And I am learning

to live like both. 🔥🐦‍⬛