How to Keep Going When You’re Just... Tired

There are moments when the world goes quiet in all the wrong ways.
When even the smiles you give freely feel like too much.
When you're tired of being the strong one. The light. The fixer.
When hope feels like a stranger, and you’re just... here. Trying. Breathing. Barely.

If you're in that space right now—darling, pause.
It’s just another turning point. And temporary.

Here’s what I’ve learned about hope:

1. Hope isn’t loud. It’s often silent.

It rarely shows up with fireworks.
Sometimes it’s just the strength to open your eyes and face another day.
Sometimes it’s crying in the shower and still deciding to eat something nourishing afterward.
Sometimes it’s texting a friend when your heart says to isolate.

Hope lives in those quiet decisions to not give up on yourself.
It’s internal.

2. You’re allowed to fall apart.

We live in a world that rewards polished smiles and productivity. But real healing isn’t tidy.
Hope doesn’t require perfection—it only asks for your presence.

Let yourself cry. Turn off your phone. Journal out the raw, messy truth. Lay on the floor and just breathe.
Like seriously, be messy.

Falling apart doesn’t mean you’ve failed—it means you’re finally letting go of what you were never meant to carry. And we can’t see clearly until we’ve cleared out what no longer fits.

3. Do something that shifts your state—even slightly.

It doesn’t have to be big. Just get present.

Take a walk and notice anything beautiful.
Do a sensorial walk—observe the clouds, literally smell the flowers, stare at the birds, feel the sun on your face.

Blast some music. Music is everything to me—it’s literal sound vibration.
Better yet, have a playlist ready for these moments, because let’s be real: this isn’t the first or the last time you’re going to feel this way.
Name it for what it purely is, and entertain yourself a little—something like “Cried, Survived, Still Cute” or “The Bitch is Back.”
(There’s a playlist below I put together for you.)

Move your body—dance, stretch, clean your space.
Move the energy. Clear the energy.
Hell, even just vacuum.

Light a candle and, if it feels right, whisper this to yourself:
“I trust that nothing is wrong, even if it feels hard right now.”

Take an epsom salt bath or a shower. Water cleanses and resets.
Ever notice when you are sick or hungover how a hot shower always makes you feel brand new?

If you need to do something totally distracting for a moment to get out of the heaviness you’re in, then do it.
Go to a bookstore, hang out with a friend, watch shit TV.
It’s fascinating how stepping away from something for a moment helps you come back to it with fresh eyes.

Even a 5-minute shift can create an energetic opening.
And sometimes, that’s all you need to let a little light back in.

4. Shift your perspective with compassion, not pressure.

Ask yourself:

• “Will this matter in five years?” (But really, will it?)

• “What would I tell a friend feeling this way?” (Be honest.)

• “What part of me needs the most love right now?” (What’s the root of the emotion you’re feeling? Nurture that, not the surface thing.)

• “What is and isn’t in my control?” (Immediately stop stressing over the parts you can’t change.)

Hopelessness often shrinks the world down to what hurts.
But there’s still so much beauty waiting to be seen again.
A little perspective, even through tears, can bring things back into focus—especially when we only focus on what’s in our control.

5. You’re allowed to be the light and need light.

How many times have we felt broken and still had to show up for others?

Even disco queens rest between dances.
Even bright souls have dark nights.
You don’t have to be okay all the time to still be radiant—there’s a quiet kind of beauty in raw vulnerability.
Needing help, needing softness, needing hope—or just needing a moment—none of that dims you.
It deepens you.

If you’re reading this, I hope you know this truth:
You are not behind.
You are not broken.
And you are never without your own knowing.

Sometimes hope is found not in answers, but in the brave choice to keep going without them.
Keep reaching.
Keep breathing.
Keep becoming.

Because you, my love, are the spark itself.
And the world still needs your essence.

But feel free to take a pause right now.
Rest. Regather. Reclaim.
Come back when you’re ready.
We’ll be here—rooting for you, beside you, always.

Need a little extra support?

🎧 Listen to Comeback Energy— a playlist curated to gently lift you.