Staying With Yourself
On rest, boundaries, and letting
your voice last
By Jade Blue
We live in a culture that rewards constant availability.
Being busy. Being responsive. Being visible. Being “on”.
For those of us who have had to fight to be heard, saying yes can feel necessary.
If the opportunity is there, we take it.
If the journalist reaches out, we respond.
If the invite lands, we accept - even when our bodies are already asking us to slow down.
Because what if it doesn’t come back?
This is something I’m still grappling with. And something I want to do better at in the year ahead. Because opportunities come and go. Your nervous system does not reset on demand.
Slowing down isn’t opting out. It’s opting in - to yourself, your health, your longevity. It’s recognising that you don’t need to be everywhere, all the time, to matter. That your voice doesn’t lose its power because you choose rest over visibility.
I’m learning that I am allowed to decline the interview. I am allowed to say no to the invite. I am allowed to step back - even from work that aligns deeply with my values. Especially then.
There is a difference between purpose and pressure. Between meaningful work and constant output. Between using your voice and exhausting it. Learning to tell the difference is ongoing, imperfect work - and I’m still in it.
At Make Yourself Heard, we talk a lot about being heard. About visibility, storytelling, and speaking truth to power.
But being heard doesn’t mean being constantly exposed. There is also power in privacy. In rest. In choosing when and how we show up.
A rested voice carries further. A regulated body tells the truth more clearly. Boundaries aren’t barriers - they are care.
Putting myself first isn’t selfish. It’s how I protect the parts of me that make this work possible in the first place. It’s how I stay connected to myself, rather than performing resilience for everyone else. So this is my intention for the year ahead.
To slow down when I need to. To say no when it’s right. To trust that the right opportunities will find me again.
The work will still be there. My voice will still matter. And I’m allowed to choose myself - without apology.
