Dear Overwhelmed: A Soft Place to Land

Some seasons stretch our hearts quietly, asking us to carry more than we ever speak aloud. If you’re feeling overwhelmed or holding a private ache, let this Love Life letter that I wrote on my Substack page be a soft place to land. Come sit with me for a moment. Take time to breathe, settle, and let your heart be held gently.

Below are the links to both my Substack page and my new YouTube. I hope you’ll check them both out.

Love Life with Dawna | Dawna-Rae | Substack

Dawna – YouTube

Dear Overwhelmed,

Thank you for being here. Come and sit with me for a little while. Grab yourself a cup of coffee or tea… even a soda will do and settle into your favorite cozy spot. Let’s take a couple of slow breaths together before we begin.

Breathe in… 1, 2, 3.
Hold… hold…
Release… 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.

Feel a little more grounded? Good. Let’s talk.

Recently, you asked me a hard and deeply sensitive question: “How do you do life when it’s so overwhelming?”

My dear overwhelmed friend, you’re carrying more than most people will ever see. Even for me, I only know the surface of what you’re navigating, and I’m so sorry life has handed you such heaviness. None of it is small. None of it is silly. None of it is your fault. These feelings you’re feeling, they matter. You matter.

Before we continue, I need to gently remind you that I’m not a healthcare professional. I’m not trained in mental health, so if the weight you’re carrying ever pulls you into a place so dark you can’t find your way out, please reach out for immediate support or call 988. You deserve real‑time help from someone who can hold you safely from a medical perspective.

Now, if you’re in a grounded and safe place emotionally and mentally, we can continue our chat.

Thank you for trusting me with your struggles and feelings. I don’t take your trust lightly. I’m honored you chose me to talk with.

Now, let’s finish settling in, because there’s something you may not have heard enough lately:

It makes sense that you feel overwhelmed. Honor that.

The cards you were dealt… the hand you’re holding… would shake most people. But you’re holding on with such intention, and I know it’s because of the love you carry in your heart. You are an example of devotion. I’m blessed to know you.

When you’re carrying something bigger than life, something you can’t fully share, something that touches every corner of your heart, it creates a quiet ache that follows you everywhere. And trying to navigate the unknown while honoring someone else’s privacy… that’s a kind of loneliness most people never experience.

There are burdens in life that refuse to fit into words.
Burdens we carry willingly, yet still whisper, Why me? Why us?

There are seasons where you’re loving someone through the unthinkable while trying to appear steady to the outside world. Sometimes you want to run away and cry. Other times you want to hold on tightly because holding on feels like you don’t have to face what’s coming.

There are moments when you’re asked to hold someone else’s truth so tightly that you forget you’re allowed to have your own thoughts, fears, and truths.

But you are.

You are allowed to feel, ache, laugh, and cry.
You are allowed to be angry and hurt.
You are allowed to grieve the secret you’re holding.
You are allowed to simply feel whatever emotion presents itself.

When you’re forced to walk a path you can’t talk about openly, it can feel like you’re disappearing inside your own life. You may even find yourself questioning who you are, not because you’re weak, but because you’re human.

Being overwhelmed isn’t a failure.
It’s expected.
It’s a sign that your heart is doing the impossible… loving, protecting, hoping, grieving, and pretending all at once. Those are some of the heaviest feelings a person can carry.

So how do you navigate life when it’s smothered in overwhelm?

While I’m no expert, I can sit with you and offer this:

You don’t have to be strong every minute of every day.
Sometimes taking a break is enough to recharge your soul.
It’s okay to step outside your reality and breathe.
Take a drive. Meet a friend for lunch.
You don’t have to be gone long, just long enough to remember you matter too.

You don’t have to pretend this isn’t hard.
Acknowledge that it is.
Write in a journal.
Join a support group.
Let yourself be held by something outside your own thoughts.

And remember, you don’t have to carry every emotion alone.

Even if you can’t share the details of the sadness you’re carrying, you are allowed to feel the truth of what this journey is asking of you. You are allowed to breathe. You are allowed to rest.

And you can sit here with me, in my little corner of the world, knowing your heart is allowed to be exactly as full and as tired as it needs to be.

When you’re walking beside someone you love through a chapter that feels unbearably heavy, it’s easy to forget that you have a heart too. It’s easy to put your own feelings on the back burner because you’re so busy being steady, being present, being the one who doesn’t fall apart.

But you are human.
You matter just as much.
Your feelings, wants, and needs, they are important.
You deserve care too.
Try not to lose yourself while caring for someone else.

Caring for someone you love in a hard chapter doesn’t mean you have to disappear inside their story. You’re allowed to step back and breathe. You’re allowed to rest without guilt. You’re allowed to feel your own emotions, even when theirs feel bigger.

And here’s something tender but true:

You cannot carry someone else’s pain if you never set down your own.

So here are a few gentle ways to care for yourself in a season that feels too big:

  • sitting outside for a moment of sunlight
  • letting yourself cry without apologizing
  • making a meal that comforts you
  • taking a shower just to feel warm water on your skin
  • calling one safe person and saying, “I just need to breathe for a minute”
  • letting yourself sleep
  • letting yourself not be strong for one hour

These aren’t luxuries.
They’re lifelines.

You’re allowed to take them.

You’re allowed to say, “This is hard for me, too.”
You’re allowed to feel overwhelmed by the weight of loving someone through the unthinkable.
You’re allowed to have your own heart needs.
Your needs matter just as much as the care you’re giving.

You don’t have to earn rest.
You don’t have to justify tenderness.
You don’t have to pretend you’re made of steel.

Because you are made of love.
And love needs tending too.

So while you’re showing up for someone else with all the devotion in your heart, please remember to show up for yourself, too. You are carrying more than any one person should ever have to carry alone.

I may not be sitting beside you in person, but I’m with you in heart.

My dear friend:
You matter in this story.
Your heart matters.
Your wellbeing matters.
Your needs matter.
You matter… and you matter to me.

My dear friend, as you move through the days ahead, I hope you remember that overwhelm doesn’t mean you’re failing, because you’re not. It means you’re loving deeply in a season of life that asks more of you than most people will ever understand. Let this be your reminder that you are allowed to pause, to breathe, to soften, and to let your own heart be tended to. You are walking a path that requires courage, tenderness, and truth, and you are doing it with more grace than you realize. Keep holding on to the small moments of light, the quiet comforts, and the gentle reminders that you are not alone. I’m here, and I’m holding this space for you, always and forever, whenever you need me.

PS:
When the weight feels too heavy, I hope you come back to this letter. I hope it steadies you. I hope it serves as a reminder that your heart deserves care, too.

Until next time, don’t forget, Love Life++ Hugs

With presence, purpose, and a heart learning to unfold,
Dawna‑Rae
may your heart return to itself again and again

This letter was first shared on my Substack, a space where I write for the hearts carrying more than they can say out loud.

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