by Leah Crump

“It was the first time in a long time my nervous system believed me. Trusted me to rest. Trusted me to choose differently.”

– Leah Crump, Be Well, Do Well

Stop the Performance

There was a time when I believed my value was directly tied to how full my calendar looked. I convinced myself that the more people needed me, the safer I was. The more I achieved, the more secure I’d feel. The more I gave, the more I’d finally be allowed to rest. But rest never came. Only new projects. New deadlines. New expectations.

From the outside, everything looked beautiful. Inside, I felt like I was constantly holding my breath. I was sharp, responsive, polished. But I was not well. And even though I had built a career in wellness and hospitality, I had forgotten how to offer any of it to myself.

A Pattern of Overgiving

For many of us, especially in hospitality leadership, overperformance has been normalized and even celebrated. We are the ones who walk in early, stay late, keep the culture humming, and quietly absorb everything that no one else wants to deal with.

I once worked with a spa director at a luxury property who hadn’t taken a full day off in over six months. She didn’t brag about it. She wasn’t trying to prove anything to her team. She simply believed the business wouldn’t hold together without her attention on every thread. She wasn’t addicted to being busy. She was terrified of what might unravel if she stopped holding it all. I asked her what scared her most about stepping away, and she didn’t say falling behind. She said she was afraid she might finally be seen as replaceable.

That is the quiet lie that keeps so many of us in a cycle of urgency: if we rest, we disappear. But we don’t disappear. We rewire the system when we opt out of the performance and choose presence instead.

The Turning Point

One morning I opened my laptop and stared at a rare blank space in my calendar. It had previously held three back-to-back meetings I had canceled the week before. I didn’t even know yet what I needed the time for. But I knew I needed it.

Old me would have filled that space with follow-up emails or slide edits or another round of prep that no one actually asked for. This time, I paused. I made tea. I sat in the sun for thirteen minutes and let the light move across the floor. Nothing dramatic happened. But something real did.

It was the first time in years my body believed me. Trusted me to stop. Trusted me to choose myself.

The Space Is the Power

In Be Well, Do Well, I wrote:

“I finally stopped glorifying the hustle. I created blocks in my week that were truly off-limits. No client calls, no catch-up meetings, no social scrolling. Just vision time. Integration time. Reflection time. That was where the real magic happened.”

I didn’t create space because I had nothing to do. I created space because I had everything to become. And what came forward wasn’t emptiness. It was potency.

My work deepened. My presence sharpened. I became more commanding, not less. People felt the difference. And I did too.

Rewrite the Rules

The problem is not that you care too much. The problem is that you’ve been taught to care at your own expense.

Let’s stop pretending that relentless output is a sign of leadership. Let’s stop applauding women for skipping their vacations. Let’s stop calling depletion professionalism.

Hospitality is about generosity. But let’s be honest: when generosity becomes servitude, nobody wins.

Your team does not need you to be perfect. Your clients do not need you to be superhuman. They need you to be present, discerning, and whole.

That’s where your real influence lives. And once you feel that in your bones, the old rules lose their grip.

We Go Together

There is nothing more subversive than a well-rested woman with nothing to prove. She’s magnetic. She’s precise. She’s no longer afraid to let the silence stretch between decisions. And she refuses to explain her power.

But here’s the secret: her rest doesn’t just nourish her. It opens a door for the rest of us.

 When one woman steps back from overperformance, she doesn’t shrink the movement. She multiplies it.

We don’t rise alone. We rise when we model a different way of operating, one that does not require our suffering to feel successful.

We don’t create change by working ourselves into the ground. We create change by showing each other how to build a life that’s sustainable, beautiful, and boldly ours.

This is not self-care. This is revolution. And if we do it together, it becomes impossible to ignore.

Send this to the one woman you know is still performing just to belong. Then put your hand over your calendar, and take something off of it. Not later. Now. Because the new way only begins when you say yes to it. And when you do, you’ll notice something wild happens: we follow. Because we go together. And that is how the future is built.