I’m Free… But Am I Really? - What Rest Looks Like When You’re Always Carrying Something

I had four days away.

Four days.

Not a month.

Not a sabbatical.

Not “I’ve moved to Ibiza and started a new life.” 😂

Just four days.

And I needed them.

Really needed them.

I needed the break from work.

I needed the break from routines.

I needed the break from being the one who remembers everything, organises everything, anticipates everything and carries everything in the background.

And yet preparing to go away felt like a job in itself.

There was food to sort.

Medication to organise.

Fresh bedding.

Who was looking after who.

Who needed to know what.

What needed to be where.

What time things were happening.

What might go wrong while I wasn’t there.

By the time I was finally packed and ready to leave, I honestly felt like I needed a break from preparing for my break.

It reminded me so much of being a teacher.

When you’re too ill to go into work, you still somehow have to set the work for the lessons you’re not there to teach.

And sometimes being a single parent feels a little like that.

Even when I step away, I still have to make sure everything can continue without me.

That part is exhausting in a way I don’t think we talk about enough.

My body arrived before my brain did

Once I got away, I realised something else.

Physically, I was there.

Sun.

Pool.

Drinks.

No school run.

No rushing out of the door.

No one asking me where their charger was.

Beautiful.

But mentally?

Parts of me were still at home.

Thinking about the children.

Checking things were okay.

Wondering whether everyone had what they needed.

Thinking about what might happen while I wasn’t there.

And I don’t think that’s unusual.

I hear people talk about “switching off” as if there’s a button somewhere we just haven’t found yet.

But I’m not convinced parenting works like that.

Especially when you’ve been in a season of life where you’ve had to be alert for a long time.

Sometimes the responsibility becomes internalised.

You don’t need someone to ask you to worry.

Your brain has already added it to the schedule.

It wasn’t all sunshine

The weather was wild at points.

There were storms, amber and red weather warnings, and even the schools in Ibiza were closed one day. My friend, who is also a teacher, ended up having a day off because of it.

So no, this wasn’t some picture-perfect sunshine break from beginning to end.

There was rain.

There were grey skies.

There were plans that shifted.

And yet I was so grateful to be there.

Actually, maybe that made the break feel even more real.

I wasn’t chasing some perfect holiday experience. I was just somewhere different, with fewer responsibilities, less rushing and a little more space around me.

And somehow, four days felt like a week.

That surprised me.

Maybe because when your everyday life is so full, even a small amount of distance can stretch time in a completely different way.

Even with the rain, even with the storms, I came home feeling grateful that I had gone.

Because rest doesn’t have to look perfect to still be restorative.

And then… I felt like me

And this is the part I’m really glad happened.

I had a night out.

A proper night out.

I laughed.

I danced.

I enjoyed myself.

And for a while, I felt like me again.

Not Mum.

Not teacher.

Not advocate.

Not the person organising appointments.

Not the person carrying everybody’s needs in her head.

Just Nikki.

And that mattered more than I realised it would.

Because sometimes when life has been demanding for a long time, you start wondering whether that version of you has disappeared.

The playful one.

The spontaneous one.

The woman who can go out, laugh, dance and not be thinking about what needs doing next.

But she hadn’t disappeared.

She was still there.

She just needed some room.

Maybe I don’t need to switch off completely

I hadn't mastered the art of switching off.

I still thought about my children.

I still checked things.

I still had moments where my brain wandered back to responsibility.

But maybe the goal isn’t complete detachment.

Maybe it’s learning that I can step away without everything falling apart.

Maybe it’s remembering that I’m allowed experiences that belong to me too.

Maybe it’s creating enough space that I can hear myself again.

Because I don’t think I’ve forgotten how to be me.

I just don’t always have enough space to find her.

And perhaps that’s part of what flourishing looks like for me at the moment.

Not pretending the difficult parts aren’t there.

Not waiting until every problem is solved before I allow myself joy.

Just finding small moments where I can come back to myself.

Sometimes with a cocktail.

Sometimes with a dancefloor.

Sometimes with five quiet minutes where nobody is asking me for anything.

I’ll take all three. 😂

And maybe, for now, that’s enough.

If you’ve been carrying a lot lately, you don’t have to wait for a holiday to give yourself a moment.

Just Take a Moment is a short, free audio I created for the days when everything feels noisy and you need a few minutes to come back to yourself.

You can listen here:Just For A Moment

And if this idea of flourishing while life is still complicated speaks to you, you may also want to explore Flourish in the In-Between