This is what healing feels like

Full heart, empty tank.

There’s a kind of exhaustion that comes from burnout. And there’s a kind that comes from being alive.

This time, it’s the second.

This past week I hosted a stage at RenderATL. I walked into it a little nervous—not about speaking. I love that part. I thrive on stage.

I was nervous about the pace. The energy. The everything of it. I wasn’t sure how I’d hold up. This was my first major event since accepting how burned out I was, and I was about to be “on” for 3 days.

What I didn’t expect was just how energizing it would feel to be in motion again. Not performative, not hustling—just…present. Moving through a few full days of connection, laughter, reflection, and celebration. Reconnecting with old friends and making new ones. Engaging with the audience. Making jokes where they made sense and giving hugs when needed.

I came home tired, yes. But not brittle.

Not the kind of tired where your body feels like it’s trying to escape itself. Not the “don’t talk to me for three days” kind. Not the kind where joy feels like another thing you have to fake.

This time, I came home feeling full. Grateful. Like I’d given something my whole heart, and had enough of it left for myself.

That’s new for me.

For a long time, burnout made everything feel dimmed. I had to hunt for joy. Grasp at it in small, fleeting moments—a good meal, a quiet walk, a brief pause. I still believe in those micro-joys. They honestly saved me on my most difficult days. But it feels good to be reaching for the macro ones again, too.

I’m starting to feel like myself.

Not the hyper-productive version. Not the shiny, put-together one.

The real one. The soft, open-hearted, joyful one I forgot I missed. The one who enjoys building but doesn’t feel pressured to do so. The one who can show up to an event and be present in a way that doesn’t feel performative.

I’m healing.

And I can feel it.