I Am Both Deeply Compassionate And One Mild Inconvenience Away From Losing My Mind

I genuinely love being a caring person.

Like… deeply.

Not in a performative “look how kind I am” way either.

I mean it truly matters to me when another woman says something like:

“I feel so seen by you.”

That sentence honestly hits me right in the soul every single time.

Because I know what it feels like to move through life feeling

Unseen.

Misunderstood.

Too much.

Not enough.

Invisible.

Lonely.

So when women open up to me, I feel it.

And I think because of that, I naturally become this weird mix of therapist, motivational speaker, emotional support raccoon and chaos coordinator almost everywhere I go.

I genuinely care.

I will hype women up in public bathrooms.

I will tell strangers they’re beautiful.

I will sit and listen to someone’s heartbreak for two hours while internally cancelling my entire evening plans.

I will convince a woman to leave a shitty relationship while standing beside avocados at Walmart.

It’s honestly a bit aggressive at this point.

But Here’s The Problem…

I care a little too much sometimes.

And eventually I hit a wall where I become completely…

peopled out.

Like spiritually dehydrated.

Suddenly every text feels overstimulating.

Every notification feels personal.

And I start fantasizing about disappearing into a cabin in the woods where nobody can find me for at least 6-8 business months.

I go from: “I LOVE HUMANS.”

to: “If one more person asks me for something I will walk directly into the ocean.”

And honestly? I never fully know when the switch is coming.

One minute I’m hosting deep emotional conversations and telling women they deserve softness and healing…

…and the next minute someone cuts me off in traffic and I’m like:

“I will slit your throat, Brenda.”

Not literally obviously.

But emotionally? Absolutely.

And sometimes I sit back afterward and wonder:

Am I confusing to people?

Do people leave interactions with me wondering where they stand?

Because the truth is, I am kind of all over the place.

I am deeply empathetic…but also wildly overstimulated.

I am nurturing…but need an insane amount of alone time.

I can hold space beautifully for people…until suddenly I cannot hear another human voice or I may actually combust.

I love connection. But I also want everyone to leave me alone.

Immediately.

The Older I Get, The More I Realize…

Being a caring person doesn’t mean you become endlessly available.

And being empathetic doesn’t mean you stop being human.

Sometimes I think women especially are expected to become these endlessly patient, emotionally regulated woodland creatures once we identify as “healers” or “helpers.”

Meanwhile I’m over here trying to process childhood trauma while rage whispering in traffic and hiding in my room because too many people texted me back in the same hour.

Like sorry. I contain multitudes.

Honestly, I Think Most Of Us Are Contradictions

I think most emotionally intelligent women are walking contradictions.

We want connection while craving solitude.

We want to help while secretly wanting nobody to need us for one full day.

We want deep conversations while also wanting complete silence.

And I don’t think that makes us fake.

I think it makes us human.

I think the women who care deeply often feel the weight of the world more intensely than others do.

Which means eventually the nervous system taps out and goes:

“Okay beautiful little healer lady, we’re gonna need to go stare at a wall in silence now before we lose our fucking minds.”

And honestly?

Fair.

So If You’ve Ever Wondered…

If I care about you: I probably do.

If I disappear sometimes: I’m probably recharging.

If I didn’t answer your message: there’s a strong chance I opened it emotionally, replied in my head and then wandered off to reorganize my life while listening to a trauma podcast.

And if I wave you into traffic one day but threaten your entire bloodline the next because you cut me off in a parking lot…

Just know that both versions are authentic.

Balanced? No.

Authentic? Absolutely.