The Pressure to Bloom: What to Do When You Don’t Feel Like Growing

There’s something about summer.

The sun stretches long into the evening. Social media is flooded with soft life vacations, smoothies in glass jars, and captions about “healing,” “alignment,” and “main character energy.” The season carries a quiet but persistent pressure to be better, lighter, happier.

But what if you’re just… here? What if you’re in a season where surviving is the win?

Nobody talks enough about the moments when growth isn’t sexy or social media-shareable, when blooming doesn’t look like petals and progress but feels more like exhaustion, stillness, or sacred refusal.

Let’s name it: The pressure to constantly grow is a form of perfectionism disguised as self-improvement. In a culture obsessed with hustle, healing, and "high vibration," we forget that rest, grief, and uncertainty are holy, too.

When “Becoming Your Best Self” Feels Like a Lot

Maybe you’re tired. Maybe life is “lifing”. Maybe the things that used to bring you joy don’t hit the same right now. That’s not a personal failure — that’s being human.

You’re allowed to not be in bloom. You’re allowed to not have a 90-day plan, a clean kitchen, or a vision board full of action steps. You’re allowed to wake up and just do what you can. That’s enough.

Here’s what I know for sure:Flowers don’t bloom all year, and trees don’t apologize for their bare branches in winter. But we’ve internalized the expectation that we should always be producing, transforming, and smiling through it.

It’s okay if this summer doesn’t feel bright.

Give Yourself Permission To:

• Pause without guilt. Stillness is not laziness. It’s restoration.

• Grieve what you lost, even if others think you should be “over it.”

• Say no to forced positivity. Not every struggle has to be turned into a lesson right away.

• Honor your capacity. Energy is not constant, especially for folks dealing with generational grief, systemic pressure, and everyday survival.

  
  

A Quiet Reminder

Growth doesn’t always look like upward motion. Sometimes, it looks like deep roots, like watering yourself in silence, like being honest about what hurts, what’s heavy, and what needs healing without rushing the process.

If you’re in a slower season, you’re not behind. You’re not broken. You’re not missing out. You’re being. And that’s enough.

So if this summer finds you in survival mode, you don’t need to bloom. You just need to breathe.

By: Sylvia J. Jones