You know that heavy, hollow feeling in your chest right after you say 'I’m fine' when you are absolutely not? That isn’t just tiredness; it’s the literal energy cost of keeping a secret from yourself.

Let’s talk about the mask. Not the one you put on for a Zoom call or a family dinner, but the one you wear when you’re sitting alone in your car in the driveway, gripping the steering wheel, trying to remember who you were before you started performing wellness. I see you. I know exactly what that looks like because I’ve lived it. For years, I treated my emotions like bad data—something to be filtered out, corrected, or ignored until they fit into a neat, manageable box. But here is the truth that science is finally catching up to: masking your true feelings is one of the most metabolically expensive things you can do as a woman. It’s not just emotional labor; it’s physical exhaustion. When you suppress a genuine reaction—a sigh that wants to be a scream, a tear that wants to fall, a boundary that wants to be set—you are engaging your body in a constant state of low-grade conflict. Your nervous system doesn’t know whether to fight or flee, so it just stays tense. And tension, my friends, burns calories. It spikes cortisol. It keeps your heart rate elevated even when you’re still. So when you say you’re exhausted, don’t let anyone tell you it’s ‘just in your head.’ It’s in your muscles, in your gut, in every cell that is working overtime to keep the peace.

Let’s ground this in biology for a second, because we need to understand the machinery. When you feel something intense and you choose to hide it, your brain sends signals to inhibit that expression. This involves the prefrontal cortex, the part of your brain responsible for executive function and social regulation, essentially overriding the limbic system, where raw emotion lives. Think of it like trying to hold a beach ball underwater. The more you push down, the harder the water pushes back. This creates what psychologists call cognitive dissonance—a clash between what you feel and what you show. Over time, this chronic inhibition leads to what researchers term ‘emotional suppression fatigue.’ Your brain uses glucose to regulate these impulses. If you spend your day smiling when you want to cry, nodding when you want to say no, you are literally draining your energy reserves. You aren’t lazy. You are running on empty because you’ve been paying an emotional toll tax on every interaction. This is why you might feel wired but tired at night. Your body has been holding its breath all day, waiting for permission to exhale.

And we have to name the elephant in the room: why do women do this to ourselves so much? Because we are socialized to be caretakers, to be agreeable, to keep the harmony. From a young age, many of us learn that our value is tied to how easy we are to get along with. We are taught that anger is unattractive, that sadness is burdensome, that frustration is a failure of management. So we polish our edges. We become smooth, pleasant, and utterly disconnected from our own internal weather reports. I watched my mother do this. She would come home from work, already drained, only to walk into a house full of demands. Instead of saying, ‘I am overwhelmed,’ she would smile, make dinner, and ask everyone else how their day was. She masked her exhaustion with service. And she paid for it with headaches, insomnia, and a quiet resentment that built up like sediment in a riverbed. It wasn’t until later in life that she realized her kindness wasn’t the problem; her silence was. We need to break that cycle. We need to stop viewing our authentic reactions as liabilities. Your feelings are not inconveniences to your schedule; they are data points telling you what you need.

So, what do we do? Do we just start screaming at our coworkers? Absolutely not. That’s not sustainable either. This isn’t about blowing up your life; it’s about small tweaks, big ripple effects. Start by noticing the mask. Notice the moment your jaw tightens when someone asks, ‘How are you?’ Notice the way your stomach drops when you agree to something you don’t have the bandwidth for. These are your body’s alarms. They are telling you that the script you’re reading doesn’t match the reality you’re living. Next week, try one tiny act of authenticity. Maybe it’s telling a friend, ‘Actually, I’m having a really hard day,’ instead of ‘I’m good.’ Maybe it’s saying, ‘I need ten minutes alone,’ instead of forcing yourself to join the conversation. Watch what happens. Usually, the world doesn’t end. Often, people respect you more for your honesty. And you? You will feel a weight lift off your shoulders. It’s like taking off a pair of shoes that are two sizes too small. At first, it feels strange, maybe even vulnerable. But soon, your feet can breathe again. This is how we rebuild trust with ourselves. By letting our outer expressions match our inner truths, even in small doses.

When you stop masking, you reclaim your narrative. You stop being the character in someone else’s story and start writing your own. This doesn’t mean you have to share every detail of your pain with the world. Boundaries are healthy. Privacy is necessary. But there is a difference between privacy and suppression. Privacy is choosing who gets access to your vulnerability. Suppression is locking the door and throwing away the key. Science says so, but your body decides which path you’re on. If you feel constantly drained, if you feel numb or detached, check your mask. Are you hiding your anger? Your grief? Your joy? All of it takes energy to conceal. When you allow yourself to feel, fully and without judgment, you integrate those parts of yourself. You become whole. And wholeness is energizing. It’s the opposite of exhaustion. It’s the feeling of coming home to yourself. It’s messy, yes. It’s imperfect, definitely. But it is real. And in a world that often asks us to be polished and perfect, real is the most radical thing you can be.

Thank you for showing up, for listening, and for trusting me with your time. Remember, you don’t have to have it all figured out to be worthy of rest. You just have to be honest with yourself. Take a deep breath. Let it out. You’re doing better than you think. This episode is general information, not medical advice — please talk with your own doctor about your health. I’ll see you next time, beautiful.