entry sixteen

 Friday, March 28, 2025

Yesterday, I attended my uncle’s wake and mass. It was emotional, heavy, and yet, there was something the priest said that stuck with me—he reframed goodbye as a hello to a new world. That shift in perspective was powerful. It made me wonder: How do I reframe my burnout? How do I stop seeing it as an ending and start recognizing it as a beginning? For so long, burnout has felt like a dead end. The exhaustion, the emotional depletion, the overwhelming weight of being everything to everyone—it’s hard to see past it. But what if burnout isn’t just something that’s happening TO me? What if it’s a message, a signal that I need to shift how I approach my work, my energy, my life?  

I think about the lyrics from Chayce Beckham’s recent song titled : “I’m alive. I’m breathing. I’ve got everything I need.” Right now, I don’t always feel that way. But what if I could? What if I started seeing burnout not as proof that I’m failing, but as a sign that I need change? Maybe burnout is my chance to redefine balance, to carve out time for myself without guilt, to recognize that my worth isn’t tied to how much I sacrifice.  

Reframing doesn’t mean ignoring the stress or pretending the struggle isn’t real. It means shifting my focus—acknowledging that I AM alive, I AM breathing, and maybe, just maybe, I do have everything I need to make a change. Maybe burnout isn’t the end of my passion for teaching. Maybe it’s my invitation to find a better way to sustain it. Perhaps my burnout is not a sign that I should walk away but rather an indication that I need to walk differently. What if I start saying no to things that drain me unnecessarily? What if I set boundaries that honor both my students and myself? Maybe I need to stop measuring success by how much I give and start defining it by how well I *live*.  

Teaching is demanding, but it doesn’t have to take everything from me. I have a choice in how I approach it, how I protect my energy, and how I prioritize my well-being. Instead of seeing burnout as the loss of something, maybe I need to see it as the beginning of something better—an opportunity to reclaim joy, rediscover purpose, and remember that I am more than my exhaustion.

Unlearning the Measure

They never said it out loud,
but somehow I learned
that the more I gave,
the more I mattered.
That saying yes
meant I was good.
That staying late,
skipping lunch,
holding everyone else’s pieces—
that was love.
That was what made me enough.

But enough never came.

There was always more to give—
more papers,
more behaviors,
more needs
than any one person
could carry.

And still,
I tried.
I gave my weekends,
my sleep,
my sanity.
Until I couldn’t tell
where I ended
and the work began.

But I’m starting to unlearn.

I’m beginning to believe
that my worth
is not written
in empty inboxes
or perfectly laminated bulletin boards.
That I am not better
because I bleed myself dry
for the job I love.

But my worth is not in the sacrifice.

It’s in my breath,
my being,
my boundaries.
It’s in the no that makes space
for the yes that matters.
It’s in the quiet moments I keep for myself—
not out of selfishness,
but survival.

I don’t have to be a martyr
to be a meaningful teacher.
I don’t have to lose myself
to prove I care.

I am already enough.
Whole.
Worthy.
Even when I step away
to rest.