I learned to stop managing my life.
And so can you. Totally worth it.
Are You Managing Your Life or Actually Being Yourself?
There’s a particular kind of exhaustion that doesn’t come from doing too much. It comes from constantly managing your life.
Managing your image. Your tone. Your schedule. Your energy. Your reactions.
You’re not burnt out because you’re weak. You’re burnt out because you’ve been shape-shifting.
And maybe… you haven’t been fully you in a very long time.
Managing is Subtle
It looks like staying “on top of things.” It looks like being flexible, agreeable, and efficient.
But let me tell you what it actually looked like for me:
Managing my image:
Holy smokes, this one right here. It’ll zap the life right out of you because it’s rooted in our own fear and vanity. What will someone else think? It did not take long for me to put this in the garbage heap once I realized this one fact: NOBODY GIVES YOUR LIFE AS MUCH THOUGHT AS YOU DO, ESPECIALLY YOUR IMAGE.
Managing my tone:
Believe it or not, there was a time in my life I was very aware of my tone—mainly because well-meaning people (read: church ladies) often called me out. And a couple of bosses did the same. Hey, I was young, still testing boundaries. Yet here I am writing in much the same tone that many of you tell me you love! So a few years ago I ceased with the management of my tone. I own it now—in all its brazen, sassy majesty.
Managing my schedule:
Mercy. I remember those days. Everyone had somewhere to be every day. My secretary would go over the family’s calendar with the preacher’s secretary! Seriously. Of course this was way back when, before the internet. Before everything convenient. The odd thing now is that I do not own a calendar, not even a digital one. It’s rather freeing to not live in obligation to a schedule—other than self-imposed ones.
Managing my energy:
Have you ever come home from a book club meeting or a lunch with a couple of pals and towards the end you’re feeling the ache to get home? That’s because you LEAK your own energy in the service of—wait for it—OTHERS. And at the same time no one reciprocated their energy.
Managing my reactions:
Well now this one. This one can get me in a big ol’ dose of trouble—quickly. I have a very fast mind. VERY FAST. And well, I had to employ that time-trusted practice of counting to 10 (or higher if need be) before I react. I truly do not want to lose my energy in anger. And I do not want to waste time managing my reactions. So. I count. Clean. Neat. Simple.
You’re not burnt out because you’re weak. You’re burnt out because you’ve been shape-shifting.
And maybe… you haven’t been fully you in a very long time.
What Gets Lost When You’re Always Managing
Here’s what happens when you spend decades managing your life instead of living it:
Your dreams get filed away. Archived. Set aside for “someday” or “when things settle down” or “after I finish taking care of everyone else.” You are so busy managing life instead of living life you don’t notice your dream slipped out of sight.
You stop asking what you want. You stop remembering what lit you up before you learned to dim yourself to fit.
Maybe it was painting. Or writing. Or that business idea. Or the version of yourself who spoke up, took risks, traveled alone, laughed louder.
You tell yourself you’re being practical. Responsible. Realistic.
But really? You’re managing your dreams right into the box on the top shelf of your mental closet. Sure it has a sweet little bow atop it, but it hasn’t been brought out into the light in decades. It’s there. Waiting.
How do I know this?
Because dreams are the work of the soul, first and foremost. It is not your ego wanting to immerse yourself in diving classes so you can swim with the dolphins. That is your soul giving you a dream or desire to have an experience that will expand you. And that expansion is good for everyone. - but especially you. I can only write this because I live it, daily.
And one day you wake up and realize: I don’t even know what I want anymore. I’ve been so busy managing everyone else’s expectations for me that I forgot I had my own.
The Way Back
If you’ve been feeling disconnected, foggy, restless—or just not quite here—you might not be lost.
You might just be managed out of your own life.
And the way back?
It’s not a grand gesture. It’s not a five-step plan. It’s this:
One breath. One pause. One honest moment where you stop asking “What should I do?” and start asking “What’s true for me right now?”
That’s not rebellion. That’s reclamation.
And it’s how your real life—and your real dreams—begin.
An Invitation to Commit to Yourself
If this essay resonated, you’ve been reading my work for free. And I’m glad you’re here.
But here’s what I know: Reading about reclamation and actually DOING it are two different things.
The difference isn’t information. It’s commitment.
When you become a paid subscriber you’re making a promise to yourself:
This year, I stop managing and start living.
This year, I listen to my own whisper.
This year, I reclaim what I filed away.
That commitment changes everything. Not because of what you get—but because of what you finally decide you’re worth.
And yes, there are gifts that come with it:
🎁 Immediate access to resources like the 3 Simple Ways to Start Listening to Yourself Again guide
💗 A more personal connection with me as you walk this path
✨ Exclusive discounts on future workshops and offerings
But the real value? It’s the decision itself.
It’s you saying: I’m done waiting. I’m done performing. I’m ready.
Join today with 20% off your annual subscription (offer ends February 7th).
This discount isn’t a sales trick. It’s an invitation to act on what you already know is true.
Already a paid subscriber? Message me to get yours!
If this spoke to you, give it a ❤️ and share it with someone who’s ready to stop managing and start living.



I washed my hair this morning, didn’t bother with the dryer or curling iron. No make up. Feels good. Sitting here thinking I should get a few things done (on my list) while I’m here alone. Yet, the sun streaming in the window feels good and brightens my mood. The house is quiet. I haven’t taken time for me in a while. I ask myself if I should I read and doze or do housework? I’ve truly been debating. Please note that I am still here in my chair writing and am about to pick up my book. Debating suddenly seems silly, but I won’t erase this comment. Writing reinforces the concept of taking me time, which usually comes last. So glad I found you, Monica. I’ve only been here a short time, but am already benefiting from your encouragement and wisdom. Thank you.
So good I restacked two excerpts!
Find me a middle-aged woman who doesn’t relate to this! I dare you.