The weight of exhaustion is heavy, especially when every headline seems to demand your fight. The temptation to withdraw, to shield yourself from the chaos, feels almost like a relief. But there is a sacred, liberating power in telling your story—your truth—in all its raw, unpolished honesty. Ijeoma Umebinyuo’s words resonate: “You were not born to be anyone’s martyr or mule.”

Speaking your truth isn’t just an act of defiance; it’s a reclaiming of your right to exist wholly and unapologetically.

Ruth Behar reminds us that true storytelling acknowledges our vulnerabilities, fractures, and pain. In those moments, we shed the martyrdom placed on our shoulders, allowing ourselves to breathe and be. And when you choose to share your story, you spark a fire that gives courage to others who are silently struggling. Community becomes not just important but essential—a web of shared experiences that says, “You’re not alone.” Your story becomes the anchor that pulls us all closer, stronger, ready for whatever lies ahead.

But resistance doesn’t only take the form of speaking out. Sometimes, it’s found in the deliberate, unapologetic choice to rest. Tricia Hersey’s Rest is Resistance speaks to this urgent need—to reclaim the spaces where our minds and spirits can heal. “Resting to reclaim the dreamspace stolen” is how The Nap Ministry frames it, and it’s more than just poetic. It’s a call to redefine what resistance looks like in a world that glorifies relentless productivity.

The maroons knew this truth intimately. These self-liberated communities, formed by enslaved individuals who broke free from bondage, created their own worlds beyond the reach of their oppressors. Their existence was a testament to resilience, to the right to live beyond the grip of exploitation.

In today’s hustle-driven society, choosing moments of peace, silence, or simple joy is a radical act. Resistance can be as subtle as reclaiming your breath when anxiety whispers that you must keep going. It can look like dancing when the world says there is no time for frivolity, or turning off the noise to sit in stillness, listening to your heartbeat and knowing it is enough.

This is not a call to abandon the fight; it’s an invitation to redefine it.

To recognize that your rest, your quiet, your refusal to be endlessly productive, is a declaration of your humanity. And in those moments, you remind yourself—and others—that the essence of who you are is not up for negotiation.

There is a freedom that comes from living this truth out loud. From being the “trickster”, the one who defies expectations by choosing joy, rest, or storytelling as their protest. When we make these choices from a place of love and self-honoring, we become the torchbearers of a new kind of rebellion. One that doesn’t just survive but dares to thrive, to reclaim what was taken and build anew.

Start your own Project 2025—a manifesto that answers to no one but you.

Fill it with the choices that sustain you, the moments that nourish your spirit, and the acts that say, “I am here, and I choose me.” This is your time to reclaim, to rest, to speak, and to be.