Many leaders I speak with are tired in a way that sleep doesn’t fix.
You too?
Yeh… I get it.

It’s not because you lack resilience, but because the quiet scripts of service run deep: give more, hold more, prove more.
The result is a life filled with responsibility, but emptied of replenishment.

The Radical Act of Choosing Yourself

What if the most radical act of leadership isn’t doing more, but choosing yourself?
Not as ego or indulgence, but as sacred selfishness — the quiet, unapologetic devotion to your own energy, expression, and evolution.

Far from turning away from others, sacred selfishness is about tending the source that makes your care possible. Because self-abandonment rarely looks dramatic. It looks like generosity, reliability, and being the one others can always count on. These are admirable traits — until they become masks that conceal depletion.

Without space for your own fire, even the most generous leaders burn out.

The Oxygen Mask of Magnificence

Think of it as the oxygen mask of your life. No one would advise you to help everyone else on a plane before you can breathe. Yet this is how so many leaders live — holding steady for others while quietly running out of air and cracking on the inside.

Psychologist Arlie Hochschild’s research on emotional labour helps explain why. When we absorb others’ emotions without tending to our own, burnout isn’t a matter of if, but when. Over-functioning erodes not just wellbeing, but identity. Reliability replaces vitality.

But when leaders model boundaries and replenishment, they stabilise the systems around them. Presence becomes more powerful than productivity. And through that presence, others learn that sustainability isn’t selfish — it’s wise.

The Return to Self

Sacred selfishness is as much about identity as energy. Over time, we start living inside roles written by others — partner, parent, executive, fixer — until we forget who authored the script. Reclaiming yourself isn’t about discarding responsibility. It’s about remembering what’s already yours.

Ask gently: Where have I outsourced my attention, my time, or even my selfhood without consent?

And when you begin to take that question seriously, another emerges: What if devotion looked less like relentless effort and more like rest, play, silence, or creativity? Because leadership doesn’t need to cost your vitality to prove your value.
Devotion isn’t about proving — it’s about presence. Choosing what keeps you lit.

This is where boundaries become sacred practice. Not walls, but gateways to right relationship. Each boundary honours both your limits and your light.

Try saying:

• “I’m unavailable for that right now.”
• “That no protects my yes.”

Every time you choose yourself, you teach others that sustainability is strength. You remind them — and yourself — that you are not required to disappear to be of service.

Sacred selfishness keeps your light steady and your leadership whole.
Your fire matters.
Your presence is the gift.

If you’re ready…

Reflect → Journal: Where in my life have I confused effort with worth? or What part of my life feels over-occupied by others’ needs?

Explore → Try one bold reclamation act this week  –  a pause, a no, or a renegotiation that honours your energy.

Activate → If you’re ready to expand your leadership by leading from wholeness, let’s talk.

With truth and love