You Are Allowed to Rest Here

Letters to My Sisters

Photo by Jeanne Delaporte on Unsplash

Dear Sister,

You don’t have to earn your way into this moment.

Not with achievement. Not with resilience.

Not with perfect words or polished healing.

Here, rest is not a reward.

It is a right.

I know you’ve been carrying a lot—quietly.

Balancing what the world demands with what your soul needs.

Stretching your capacity for others while silently rationing care for yourself.

And maybe you’ve told yourself:

“Just one more thing to finish.”

“Just a little longer until I can breathe.”

But Sister, let me say this clearly:

You are allowed to rest here.

You are allowed to be tired and still worthy.

You are allowed to pause before you pour.

You are allowed to need tending, not just to tend.

This is not laziness.

This is not weakness.

This is wisdom.

This is repair.

So let this letter be your permission slip.

To take a breath that isn’t rushed.

To say no without apology.

To remember that your being is just as sacred as your doing.

Come home to your breath.

To your body.

To your becoming.

You are not behind.

You are not failing.

You are simply human—tired, holy, and held.

With softness and solidarity,

Your Sister in Stillness

---

Affirmation

I no longer hustle for my worth.

I honor my need for rest with reverence.

---

Reflection Prompt

Where in my life have I been pushing through when I really needed to pause?

What does rest want to look like for me right now?

---

An Invitation to Go Deeper

Letters to My Sisters has always been about reflection and restoration.

But I also believe in returning to the table together—to unpack, to integrate, to grow.

Starting in November, paid subscribers receive an exclusive After the Letter reflection— a companion piece offering deeper commentary, prompts, and practices to ground what we’re exploring each week.

It’s not just extra — it’s an invitation to go deeper into the work of becoming.