Learning to Rest Without Guilt: What Grad School and Pilates Are Teaching Me About Slowing Down
I used to wear busyness like a badge of honor.
Early mornings, long workdays, late-night study sessions — if I wasn’t in motion, I felt like I was falling behind. As a Pilates instructor, personal trainer, and grad student in marriage and family therapy, “balance” sounded nice in theory, but in practice? It often felt out of reach.
But recently, I’ve been learning that productivity without presence isn’t success — it’s survival. And I don’t want to live in survival mode anymore.
The Moment It Clicked
One night after class, I came home exhausted — the kind of tired that no amount of sleep could fix. My body ached, my mind buzzed with to-do lists, and even though I teach people how to breathe, I realized I hadn’t taken a real breath all day.
That moment hit me hard: I was so focused on being “on” for everyone else that I had stopped showing up for myself.
I sat on my mat, eyes closed, and let the stillness feel awkward. That night wasn’t about movement — it was about surrender.
That’s when I remembered something one of my professors said in a seminar:
“Rest isn’t the absence of effort — it’s the space that gives effort meaning.”
It stuck with me.
What Pilates Taught Me About Rest
In Pilates, rest isn’t passive. It’s intentional.
Every inhale is preparation; every exhale is release. Between movements, there’s a pause — a moment to reset the nervous system and reconnect to the body.
That pause is sacred. It’s what gives the next movement control, strength, and grace. Without it, everything falls apart.
Life works the same way.
Without pause, our efforts lose rhythm. Our passion becomes pressure. Our purpose starts to feel like performance.
So lately, I’ve been reframing rest not as “doing nothing,” but as “doing something necessary.”
Sometimes that looks like:
- Taking a walk without my phone.
- Stretching without turning it into a workout.
- Saying no, even when my people-pleaser side cringes.
- Choosing to be instead of do.
What Therapy School Is Teaching Me About Guilt
As an MFT student, I’ve been reflecting on how guilt often disguises itself as responsibility.
When we feel guilty for resting, it’s rarely about laziness — it’s about fear. Fear of missing out, fear of being judged, fear of losing momentum.
But in therapy, we talk about how avoidance of rest is often rooted in deeper narratives — like the belief that our worth depends on our productivity. I’ve caught myself in that story many times.
Learning to rest, then, becomes an act of reparenting. It’s telling your inner overachiever:
“You don’t have to earn rest. You deserve it because you’re human.”
The more I practice that, the more I realize rest doesn’t make me weaker — it makes me more grounded, more compassionate, more creative.
The Balance I’m Building
These days, balance looks different for me.
It’s not about perfect scheduling — it’s about self-awareness.
Some weeks, I crush my goals. Other weeks, I need to step back. And that’s okay.
Because slowing down doesn’t mean giving up — it means making space for longevity.
In Pilates, we always say, “less is more” — that true control comes from mindfulness, not force.
I think the same applies to life.
When I give myself permission to rest, I notice my body softens, my thoughts quiet, and my creativity flows again.
Rest reminds me who I am when I’m not performing.
We live in a culture that glorifies the grind but forgets that growth happens in recovery. The truth is, rest is resistance — especially for women, millennials, and high achievers who’ve been taught to hustle for worthiness.
So, I’m learning to reclaim rest — not as a reward, but as a right.
Rest is not wasted time. It’s sacred time.
🪞 Reflection Prompt:
What would it look like for you to rest — without guilt, without apology, and without needing to earn it?
If you’re on a similar journey of learning to slow down, I’d love to hear how you’re redefining rest. Leave a comment below or share your reflections with me on Instagram @ayanab_. Let’s remind each other that rest is part of the work.
Ayana Brianne. 
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