🔥 Stop solving for “us.” Start standing for you.
Sadie Speaks is my personal writing — short, honest essays from the deep middle of things. They started as emails to my list, but they’ve become something more: snapshots of truth, power, and self-return, written in real time.
🎧 Want to hear it how I meant it? Listen to me read it.
💬 Prefer to read? Here’s the original text.
Today has been a doozie.
It’s the last day of school, and my entire schedule ecosystem is about to shift. I’m so ready for the break – and excited to sleep in – but apprehensive about how my kids being home will affect my space and my rhythm (which I’ve really been loving these last few weeks since Alex went back to the office).
I had dreams of writing something stellar again this week. Last week I had all the fire and the words and the drive. But today? I need slowness.
There are a lot of unknowns coming. Not just the logistics of summer, but the emotional terrain of it – how the shift will land in my body, how the days will stretch and fold. This is the first year I didn’t arrange “official” summer childcare, besides my mom popping in a couple days a week so I can see clients. The rest, we’re just winging.
So I’m stashing that linguistic gold into a file for later. Choosing a nap. Going outside with my kids. Letting myself honor this one very specific day – the day when summer break is at its longest.
But before I sign off, I want to make good on something I said I’d do – because the words still matter, even when the speaker is tired. Some things are worth finishing, even if you don’t have the same fire you started with.
Last week I talked about power leaks – the subtle, hardly-detectable ways we shrink ourselves in an attempt to control how someone else is feeling. I told you about catching myself doing that: taking on Alex’s stress about his schedule change. And I said I’d tell you how I shut it off.
So here it is.
My lightbulb moment came when I realized I’d been looking at the whole thing through the wrong lens. I kept asking myself, “How is this affecting us?” But us is a slippery word.
What does us even mean?
I’m someone who likes to dissect semantics because it’s fun. But also because language is powerful – and sometimes, language is where the leak starts. So I needed to get to the bottom of us.
So I thought of this like a math equation, where 1 + 2 = 3. In this example, let’s say 1 is me, 2 is Alex, and 3 is this nebulous us. In math, one plus two equals three. But in life, Sadie plus Alex doesn’t equal…Salex. Because we’re not one being. We’re two distinct individuals who are in relationship.
The us I really needed to be concerned with wasn’t some merged third identity – it was the intersection where our lives overlap. The left side of the equation. The way our two wholes operate side by side, simultaneously. When I thought about it that way, and when I looked closer, through this lens – I realized the situation didn’t just have one impact, like I’d been assuming. It actually had three:
How is this change affecting Alex? That part is for him to articulate and manage. I can be aware. I can support. But it’s not mine to hold.
How is this change affecting me? That’s for me to manage. And honestly? I’ve been doing a stellar job. Gold star.
How is this change affecting our relationship and shared responsibilities? That’s for us to co-manage. As a team.
Once I realized what wasn’t mine, I put it down. Once I could see what was mine, I felt proud of how I was navigating it. And because our partnership is strong, I could trust that we’d figure out the shared parts together.
I still feel sad for Alex. He’s still deep in the throes of transition, and I still want to help. But I’ve stopped trying to carry something I can’t actually touch. And that’s a good thing – because as it turns out, I need that bandwidth now to manage my own schedule change.
But it also made me better support for him. Because now, instead of trying to stand in his shoes, I’m standing beside him – where I can actually hear, reflect, and give him space to live his own life.
The stress I felt at the time was so burdensome – but the way this played out leaves me grateful that I’ve spent the last couple of years learning how to listen to it.
Doing this stuff is hard. (That’s why it’s called inner work.) But it’s worth it. Because, as that turns out, decoding messages from your nervous system is another secret backdoor to getting your power back.
There’s a lot of wisdom in your nervous system. The trick is being able to tolerate the discomfort until you know what it means.
This has been a really rich theme for me lately, and I’ve got more to say – especially about the sneakiest kind of power leaks: the ones that don’t even involve other people. But that’ll have to wait until my fire returns.
For now, I’m going outside. And in case you need it, you can borrow my permission slip: To stop over-functioning. To put down what isn’t yours. And to choose how you want to show up today based on what you’re feeling and what your body needs.
That’s what I’m doing. And it’s more than okay.
With all my wild heart,
Sadie xo
P.S. If something I said resonated — and you’re craving a space to unpack your own story — you can book a session with me here. I’d be honored to hold that space with you.
