It’s been a while.

Actually, it’s been a really long while.

I haven’t written a blog post since December (you can read that here). Not because I haven’t had anything to say, but because life has been asking me to slow down, get quiet, and pay attention in ways I didn’t necessarily choose.

The last time I wrote, I was wrestling with my relationship with movement, food, rest, screens, my body, and the constant feeling that I was somehow failing myself.

I was tired and I was frustrated.

And honestly, I was tired of working on myself. I didn’t realize then that I was about to learn something much bigger.

Energy and time are currency.

And I had been spending mine like I had an unlimited supply.

The body keeps asking for our attention

For the last several years, my health has been a moving target.

It started with a shoulder injury in January 2023. A fall at a trampoline park left me with a torn labrum, excruciating pain, physical therapy, and months of being unable to move my body the way I was accustomed to.

Then came the digestive issues.

I was diagnosed with SIBO in August 2023, and suddenly food became complicated. What I ate mattered. When I ate mattered. How my body responded mattered.

There were tests.

Treatments.

Supplements.

Dietary restrictions.

Energy work.

Massage.

Therapy. So much therapy.

Thousands of dollars spent trying to figure out how to feel like myself again. You can read more about that here.

And underneath all of it was exhaustion.

The kind of exhaustion where getting out of bed feels like a negotiation. The kind where walking up the stairs at work feels like an accomplishment. The kind where you get home from work and realize you have absolutely nothing left to give.

So I did what a lot of women do.

I kept going.

The cycle of “I’ll start tomorrow”

I wrote about this last summer.

I’d tell myself:

I’ll start working out tomorrow.

I’ll clean up my diet tomorrow.

I’ll spend less time on my phone tomorrow.

I’ll make more time for myself tomorrow.

And sometimes I did. I’d get into a routine for a week or two and feel incredibly proud of myself. Then I’d take a day off. That day became two. Two became a week. And before I knew it, I was right back where I started. Only now I felt worse because I had added guilt and shame to the exhaustion.

I called it a lack of discipline or a lack of motivation or a lack of drive.

But what if that wasn’t the problem?

What if I was simply depleted?

That question has changed everything for me.

Then came EBV

Just when I thought I had made some progress, my body had another lesson for me.

I was diagnosed with Epstein Barr Virus. I didn’t have an active contagious infection. The way the doctor explained it is much like having Long COVID. The virus was active wreaking havoc on my body, but not in the way that I could spread it to others. Viruses are no joke!

And for the past several months, fatigue, brain fog, body aches, bloating, and hormonal depletion have been part of my everyday experience. I’ve been on almost 16 weeks of antiviral treatment, and my iron and progesterone have dropped incredibly low.

I’m not sharing that because I want anyone’s sympathy. I’m sharing it because I think there are a lot of women quietly living this way.

Going to work.

Getting the kids where they need to go.

Making dinner.

Showing up for everyone.

Trying to maintain a household.

Trying to maintain a career.

Trying to maintain friendships.

Trying to maintain a body.

Trying to maintain a marriage.

Trying to maintain a business.

Trying to maintain themselves.

And wondering why they feel like they’re failing at all of it. Maybe we’re not failing. Maybe we’re asking our bodies to operate with finite resources to produce an infinite amount of energy. Energy has to come from somewhere.

Energy became my currency

Something shifted in me over the last few months. I started looking at every decision differently.

Not just:

Do I have time for this?

But:

Do I have the energy for this?

Those are two very different questions.

I might technically have two hours available in my evening. But if I’m exhausted, those two hours aren’t really available. I might have the ability to say yes to another commitment. But what will that yes cost me?

I started realizing that my energy is a resource. And so is my time. Neither one is refundable. And neither one is unlimited.

That realization forced me to take a much harder look at my life.

Something had to change

I have spent years being incredibly proud of how much I can carry.

• Mother of three.
• Kids’ sports.
• A marriage.
• A home.
• A spiritual business.
• A podcast.
• A corporate career.
• A backyard sanctuary.
• A million responsibilities.

I wore “busy” like a badge and somewhere along the way, I started believing that being exhausted was evidence that I was doing enough. But exhaustion didn’t earn a trophy. And being busy isn’t the same thing as being fulfilled.

My corporate job became the first place I had to look.

For years, I told myself I should be grateful. And I am grateful for what that career has given me. I’ve learned an incredible amount. I’ve worked alongside talented people. I’ve developed skills that I will carry with me for the rest of my life.

But I also had to admit something:

The cost has become too high. Not necessarily financially.

• Energetically.
• Physically.
• Mentally.
• Creatively.
• Personally.

I was spending the majority of my best energy somewhere else. And then coming home with whatever scraps were left. There wasn’t enough left for my family. There wasn’t enough left for my health. There wasn’t enough left for the businesses and ideas I wanted to build. And eventually, there wasn’t enough left for me.

This is why I’m changing direction

Leaving corporate isn’t me giving up. It’s actually the opposite. It’s me choosing to build a life that makes more sense for the woman I am now. I’ve made the decision to branch out into executive consulting.

I’ve spent more than two decades supporting executives, navigating complex organizations, managing competing priorities, anticipating needs, coordinating massive initiatives, and creating order out of chaos.

Those skills didn’t disappear because I got sick. If anything, I understand capacity, priorities, energy, and boundaries more deeply now. I don’t want to work 60 hours a week proving that I’m valuable. I don’t want to spend my entire life waiting for the weekend. I don’t want to build a business that requires me to sacrifice my health to make it successful. I want to use what I’m exceptionally good at in a way that allows me to have a life outside of work.

And I want to help other people do the same.

Maybe this is what surrender actually looks like

I spent a long time thinking surrender meant giving up, letting go of control, or accepting defeat. But I’m beginning to see it differently. Maybe surrender is simply stopping the fight against what you already know. I knew I couldn’t keep living the way I was living. My body knew it before my brain was willing to admit it.

I kept trying to fix myself so I could go back to the life I had. Instead, I’m realizing that maybe I don’t want to go back. Maybe the goal isn’t to become the old version of myself again. Maybe the goal is to create a life that actually supports the woman I’ve become.

A woman who is 44.

A woman whose body has changed.

A woman who has learned some very hard lessons about health.

A woman who still has enormous ambition.

A woman who loves her family deeply.

A woman who wants to build things.

A woman who wants meaningful work.

A woman who also wants quiet.

Rest.

Space.

Creativity.

Adventure.

And time.

To the woman who is exhausted

If you’re reading this and thinking, Oh my God. This is me.

I see you.

Maybe you’re the woman who is incredibly capable but completely depleted. Maybe everyone comes to you because you’re the one who can handle it. Maybe you’re successful on paper and exhausted in real life. Maybe you’ve convinced yourself that once you get through this season, you’ll finally have time to take care of yourself.

• Once the kids are older.
• Once work settles down.
• Once the house is finished.
• Once the project is done.
• Once your health improves.
• Once things calm down.

But what if things don’t magically calm down? What if we have to start making different choices now?

Not huge, dramatic, overnight changes.

Just honest ones.

What deserves your energy?

What doesn’t?

What are you really saying yes to because you actually want to?

And what are you saying yes to because you’re afraid of disappointing someone?

What are you spending your time on?

And is it actually buying you the life you want?

These are the questions I’m asking myself right now. I don’t have all the answers. I’m still tired. I’m still healing. I’m still figuring out what my body needs. I’m still learning how to rest without feeling guilty. I’m still learning that productivity isn’t the measure of my worth.

But I know this:

My energy is precious.

My time is precious.

And I’m done spending either one without intention.

Maybe that’s what this next chapter is about. Not becoming a better version of myself, or not having to fix everything or doing more. Maybe it’s simply learning how to spend my currency on the things—and the people—I actually value.

And maybe, for the first time in a very long time, that’s enough.

Much Love,

Beth Rose