Learning to Respect My Own Time, Without Guilt
There was a time when my phone never left my side. A time when messages demanded immediate replies, and late-night calls felt like obligations dressed in friendship or care. I thought being available meant being kind, responsible, and emotionally mature.
But kindness is not the same as self-abandonment. And emotional maturity does not require constant accessibility.
Lately, I’ve started practicing what I now call my evening boundary. After 8 P.M., my phone slips into silent mode. Not turned off completely, but simply quiet. I light a candle, make a cup of tea, and slowly return to myself.
This shift is not about vanishing. It is about choosing to be present with the part of me that no longer wants to explain, perform, or overextend. It is not a refusal of others, but a soft acceptance of myself.
Since then, my sleep has improved. My thoughts feel more spacious. I read more pages, breathe more deeply, and find meaning in the rituals that were once rushed. Small gestures like massaging body oil into my skin, writing in my journal, or sitting in silence connect me to my body in ways no screen ever could.
On my bedside table, I keep a few companions that support this space. A silk eye mask, a private notebook, and one of my favourite vibrators from SHEVEREIGN. These small tools remind me that care can be quiet and pleasure can be unrushed.
Some people still expect replies. Some do not understand this boundary. But those who truly respect me will begin to meet me where I now meet myself.
After 8 P.M., I am not unavailable. I am simply choosing peace. I am gently unreachable, in the most loving way.