There are days when the distance between steady and overwhelmed feels shorter than it used to.
Nothing major has to happen. It can be something small — a question asked at the wrong moment, a delay, a tone that lands just slightly off — something that normally wouldn’t stay with you.
And yet, it does.
We can feel it almost immediately, that subtle shift inside where patience doesn’t stretch the way it usually does. The room feels a little louder. The demand feels a little heavier than it should.
It’s not that anything is wrong.
It’s just that the margin is thinner.
We’ve been holding a lot for a while now — even the things we don’t say out loud, even the parts that look manageable from the outside. It adds up quietly, and most of the time we carry it well.
Until we notice we’re closer to the edge than we expected — not falling over it, not losing control, just… closer.
And that can feel unsettling, especially when you’re used to being the one who stays steady. It can make you question yourself for a moment, like something is off when it usually isn’t.
But this isn’t failure. It’s what happens when a lot has been held for a long time, even if it’s been carried quietly.
Even steady people have limits, and reaching that edge doesn’t mean you’ve done anything wrong.
You don’t have to fix it right now, or push it away. You can notice it, sit with it, and let that be enough for today.
Tenderly,
Tabby