
As a consultant, I work closely with people. Many of them come to me when they feel stuck, confused, or unsure orealise next step. Sometimes they need a new strategy or a clearer direction, but more often than not, what they are really looking for is energy. They want presence, calmness, and reassurance. And because I care deeply about the people I work with, I have always given them that. I give attention. I give thought. I give space. I do my best to hold their questions without rushing to fix them, and I try to meet them where they are.
Over time, I started to notice something. I was feeling more tired than usual, even after doing work that I love. It was not the kind of tiredness that goes away after one good night of sleep. It was a steady drain, like something inside me was being pulled too often, too fast, and without pause. I could not explain it at first, until I realised I was offering my light to too many people, too freely. I was open all the time, emotionally, mentally, and energetically, and slowly, it was costing me more than I thought.
Not everyone takes advantage intentionally. Some people simply do not realise they are borrowing your energy. They come to you with urgency, questions, or emotional noise, and they expect you to be there because you have always been. They assume that just because you are calm, you are available. Just because you know what to say, you are always ready. Just because you helped them once, you will keep doing it again and again. But the truth is, giving too much of yourself without limits eventually leaves nothing behind for you.
Working in interiors and energy work helped me understand this better. When I help clients choose curtains, one of the questions I often ask is whether they want to let light in, or keep something out. That question, while simple, says everything about boundaries. A sheer curtain allows connection. A thicker one offers protection. And we need both. In a home, in a business, and in ourselves.
I started thinking of my energy like a space. Just like a room has walls, my attention needs limits. Just like a window has a curtain, my emotions need timing. I still care about my clients. I still want to show up fully for the people I work with. But I have learned that the quality of my presence depends on how well I manage my energy behind the scenes. That means creating space for myself to breathe. It means not answering every message immediately. It means saying no when a request is not aligned, and not feeling guilty for protecting my own rhythm.
The best work I have ever done did not come from overextending myself. It came from moments when I felt clear, grounded, and steady. When I give from that place, I do not feel drained. I feel real. And the people who receive it can feel the difference too. They respond with respect, not urgency. With trust, not pressure. These are the kind of relationships I want to grow. Not the ones that rely on me burning out to prove that I care.
So if you are someone who gives a lot, especially in your work, this is a reminder you might need. Not everyone deserves to live in your light. Some people are just passing through. Some only show up when they need something. And some are simply not meant to stay. Your light is something you build and protect. Let it reach the right people, the ones who honour it. But do not leave it open for everyone.
The more you learn to draw your own curtain, the more you will realise that the light you keep for yourself is just as important as the one you offer to others.