The Need for Spaces to Exhale

There is a lot happening in the world right now. I will not, and cannot, deny that.

A significant part of my work is holding space for others. I sit with people as they sift through emotions, decisions, grief, anger, and the complexities of living in a world that does not always feel safe or just. And in the spirit of keeping it real, much of what we are witnessing right now is not new. For many of us, this is familiar. We have seen it. We have lived it. We have studied it.

As a Black woman therapist, I am not outside of these experiences; I am within them. I navigate them alongside you. I hear them in the stories my clients bring into session each week.

Lately, what I keep noticing is how many people are exhausted. Not just tired, but exhausted. Exhausted from carrying grief. Exhausted from witnessing harm. Exhausted from navigating systems that continue to ask for more while offering very little in return. Exhausted from reading another headline, or hearing another story, or watching another community experience loss, violence, or injustice, and somehow still being expected to show up the next day as though nothing happened.

There is something deeply unsettling about living through difficult times while the world continues moving forward as if everything is normal. For many people, especially those from historically marginalized communities, the weight is cumulative. It is not one event, one loss, or one disappointment. It is years of experiences layered on top of one another until the nervous system begins carrying more than it was ever meant to hold alone.

And yet, so often the response is to keep pushing, stay positive, keep going, focus on the good, or practice gratitude. While none of those things are inherently wrong, they can feel painfully disconnected when they are offered before pain has even been acknowledged.

One thing I know for certain is that people do not need more pressure to perform wellness while silently drowning. They need spaces to exhale, spaces where grief can be named. Spaces where anger can be explored. Spaces where they are supported and heard. Spaces where fear, confusion, disappointment, and exhaustion do not have to be justified before they are taken seriously.

Sometimes healing begins with naming. Naming what happened. Naming what hurt. Naming what feels unfair. Naming what feels heavy. Naming the impact of carrying so much for so long.

This is one of the reasons I believe so deeply in therapy. Not because therapy can erase injustice or make painful realities disappear. It cannot. But therapy can offer something many people rarely receive, the opportunity to be seen without having to explain why their pain matters. A place where someone says, "Yes. I see it too." A place where your humanity is not questioned and you do not have to carry everything by yourself. And in the human experience, that can be tremendously healing within itself.

If this type of exhaustion resonates with how you have been feeling lately, I want to remind you that your feelings make sense and the heaviness you may be feeling makes sense. I encourage you to take care of yourself as best you can. This might include resting when you need to, seeking support, or leaning into community.

There is a spectrum across most experiences, and acknowledging reality does not mean you must give up hope. Hope can sometimes become more meaningful when it is rooted in truth. Acknowledging the truth that a lot of people are carrying more than they should have to carry, and much of what we are witnessing is indeed painful. Some days may feel heavier than others, and the truth is that you still deserve care. You still deserve rest, moments of joy, connection, softness, and peace.

Taking care of yourself does not mean you are ignoring what is happening around you. Resting does not mean you have stopped caring. Creating space for your own well-being is not a betrayal of the causes, communities, or people you love. It is one of the ways we sustain ourselves through difficult seasons. Even in the midst of all of this, you do not have to carry it alone.