A Letter to the Woman Who’s Tired of Performing

I am not going to hold your hands and say don't, however I will say do it slowly, as a relaxed woman instead.

Photo by Volkan Olmez on Unsplash

Yesterday, I read Maria Britze’s newsletter about how she told a YouTube strategist she wanted to live in a cave. Not metaphorically. Like, truly. A real cave. One with no Wi-Fi, no ring lights, no metrics.

I get it, for every time someone shares something personal about them, myself included, I felt exposed on their behalf and my behalf. It was like they had just given out a chunk of themselves in return for the numbers and metrics. I worry about the attention and how sometimes the numbers might make people feel that all is well with you.

Sometimes my head says run, sometimes the spotlight looks beautiful, and you want it on you.

Many people believe beautiful women have it easy because beauty is currency, they say. So they must prove to be twice the leader, twice the best, and twice the smart ones, so your other values or qualities are seen.

To the women tired of performing with no tangible results to show for it. You struggle with friendships, struggle with romantic partners, and struggle with your money; making it and growing it, your mental health and peace—I see you.

You, with three tabs of work open, half a dinner in your belly, your latest doctor’s appointment not saying anything nice you’d like to hear about your PCOS, or uterine problems, yet you keep one eye waiting for the notification that will change your life.

You juggles three jobs, but still you feel like you don’t have anything to show for it.

You, who wakes up tired, scrolls out of habit, eats out of stress, and pours from a cup that’s cracked at the base—metaphorically speaking lol.

You are told to brand her, market her, build her love her, fix her—while smiling and never asking for too much but be graceful to receive what is given.

I know what it’s like to want to disappear into a cave. Not because you hate the world. It just feels like the world keeps asking you to audition for the life you’ve already earned.

You’re not lazy. You’re tired.

Tired of interviews that ask if you’re a mother but never ask a man if he’s a father.

Tired of dating apps where men think their mere interest is a gift, where your softness is expected, but your standards are inconvenient.

Tired of job listings that want passion, flexibility, experience, and the ability to turn trauma into teachable moments—but offer no healthcare, no stability, no soul.

Tired of being told to “just rest” when rest itself isn’t free.

When rent is due, and your inbox is full, and your body doesn’t even remember what true sleep feels like.

And maybe most of all, you’re tired of feeling like you’re too much when you speak up… and not enough when you stay quiet.

The truth is it is not that;

You don’t have to perform to be worthy. You have to indeed prove yourself above to not doom scroll your life. You need to do a deep soul searching to see what is what, performing for so you don’t have to be grateful for crumbs. You perform, sure of tangible results, grateful for the grand and little things life has to offer. Soul searching, where you say, for god’s sake, I don’t want this, I want this instead.

You have to perform so that your success is not at the expense of self-abandonment. Look at life from the sensual point of view. Everything is sensual. My hands on my keyboard as I type to you, my eyes on the screen looking at the words come, when you eat, how you bathe, how you interact, even work. So why can’t I move slow?

Sensual things are best experienced in slow moments. So slow down. Breathe in and out as much as you can once you find yourself going so fast you almost spiral. Rest without guilt.

You’re allowed to move slow. Let it break things open. Allow them unravel, perhaps that’s when the answer will be found. Because maybe the world doesn’t need another performance. Maybe it needs your truth. Raw. Honest.
There is a soft rhythm beneath the noise. A place where you can breathe again.

Just pause.
And in that pause, listen.
You may find that your next step doesn’t need to be loud. Yeba said many times clarity isn’t loud, you just see it. Andrea Iyamah said she found clarity of her brand in a morning devotion, a bible verse confirmed it. For Yeba it was in a quiet conversation with someone. However it is it just needs to be yours.

I need you to believe that if you truly wish it, and position yourself for it to be with time it can be

With you in the stillness,
Winifred.