I have come to realise that I don’t know how to rest. 

After an exhausting few months between the move from France to Italy this summer, starting my PhD, navigating motherhood and work, last week I decided to take a full day off. No PhD, no social media, no household tasks. The plan was to just let myself be for a day (which, if you know me, you know doesn’t happen often). I had just passed the first hurdle of my PhD Journey, i.e the Research Question Statement, and figured that I deserved one day off (which is problematic in itself but this can be a discussion for another post). 

On my scheduled day off, I woke up at 8am, didn’t take a single nap throughout the day, forgot to eat lunch, decided on a whole new direction for a part of my PhD project, designed my instagram account (@blackademiadiaries) content calendar for the next 3 months and cooked Japanese Curry for dinner. On the very day that I decided to rest, my brain decided it was a good time to be an overachiever. 

This made me realise that I don’t know how to rest and I need to do something about it. 

This blog post is for the overachievers, for the black girls who haven’t learnt how to rest, for those incapable of focusing on the now because they are too preoccupied to be always one step ahead in the future. I am writing here for all those like me, who have internalised a little too much that “Black Girls Must Die Exhausted”. 

Confessions of a chronic overachiever

A colleague once told me  “wow you’ve done so much for your age. I would die to have a CV as full as yours”. Yes I have indeed done a lot and I am proud of all the amazing projects that I have had the opportunity to be a part of and all that I’ve been able to learn. 

But at what cost? I haven’t had any time off since summer 2022 and before that my last time off was in summer 2016. I’ve been constantly ‘on’ and I tend to always sacrifice sleep and rest for the next professional opportunity or amazing project. 

Being an overachiever has become a point of pride because I know that I am skilled, I am good at what I do and I am able to make things happen and achieve my goals. At the same time, I feel constantly depleted and one bad day away from a full-on burn out.  

As I think about it, I realise that constant grinding for me comes from several places: 

• A tad bit of hyperactivity coupled with genuine interest and passion.
• Fear of missing out on the future. I understood a long time ago that knowledge is power in a way that goes beyond things that one can learn at school but rather having the right information at the right time. I am obsessed with not missing out on an opportunity because I didn’t know about it. 
• Lack of social and Financial safety net (real or imagined). This ties in with my internalised belief that I don’t have the right to make any mistakes which stems from Racial Trauma as I reflected on in my last post. I have internalised that if I fail, there won’t be anyone to pick up the slacks, even though that is not necessarily entirely true. I have a wonderful support system in my husband, my family and my friends.  

Now that I have realised that I don’t know how to rest, I want to learn how to do so moving forward. 

“Rest is Resistance”

As a black woman living in what bell hooks describes as the “imperialist white supremacist capitalist patriarchy” that exploits Black women’s labor and render their voices invisible, my rest is a matter of resistance. It’s not only personal, it’s political. 

Tricia Hersey, founder of The Nap Ministry, writes: 

“My rest as a Black woman [...] suffering from generational exhaustion and racial trauma always was a political refusal and social justice uprising within my body. [...] This is about more than naps. It is not about fluffy pillows, expensive sheets, silk sleep masks or any other external, frivolous, consumerist gimmick. It is about a deep unraveling from white supremacy and capitalism. [...] Rest pushes back and disrupts a system that views human bodies as a tool for production and labor. It is a counter narrative.” (Rest is anything that connects your mind and body, Feb. 21, 2022)

Hersey frames rest as both personal and political. It’s a political refusal, resistance against the commodification and exploitation of black bodies from chattel slavery to contemporary grind and hustle culture. 

As Black women, our lives, our hair, our knowledge but also our rest is political. 

Black Girl Excellence yes but this excellence shouldn’t be achieved at the cost of exhaustion. 

Black Girls Must NOT Die Exhausted. 

I have come to understand that being my ancestor’s wildest dreams isn’t only premised on my academic and professional achievements. Hustle is not what our ancestors and foremothers fought for. Resting also participates in carrying on their legacy. 

As part of my Black Feminist Praxis, I pledge to take naps, prioritise rest and trust God and the Universe that what is meant to be mine shall come to me. And it shall come to a rested version of me. 

Starting this month, I am committing to taking at least one day off per month and one full week off every three months. This might not seem like much for those reading who don’t know me but if properly implemented, I believe that this would be actually revolutionary in my life.

I WILL REST. WE WILL REST.

How about you, how do you wish to practice rest as resistance in this coming year ? 

Ressources

Find the French version of this article here.

For more resources on rest as resistance, follow and read the work of Tricia Hersey, founder of The Nap Ministry: 

• Instagram: @The Nap Ministry
• Website: https://thenapministry.wordpress.com/ 
• Buy and read her two books from your local Library: Rest is Resistance, A Manifesto (2022) ; WE WILL REST! The Art of Escape (2024).