Rest is Resistance: doing less in a hustle culture

In South Africa (and globally...) “hustling” isn’t just a phrase - it’s a mindset, a coping mechanism, a badge of honour.

We glorify the grind. We praise the early riser, the person with three side hustles, the one always chasing the next gig or opportunity. It's framed as ambition, resilience, and survival - and truthfully, it often is. In many South African households, there is no trust fund, no family business to fall back on. Just you, a dream, and the weight of everyone else's survival too.

But beneath that grind is something else.
A deep, aching exhaustion that no amount of coffee or motivational quotes can fix.

And at some point, you have to ask: what is it costing us to be this productive?

The Trauma of Overworking

In communities shaped by generational trauma, economic inequality, and cultural pressure, overworking isn’t just normal - it becomes your identity.

You feel useful when you’re needed.
You feel valuable when you’re busy.
You feel safe when you’re in control.

For so many of us, rest doesn't feel like relief - it feels like anxiety. You sit still and suddenly the guilt creeps in. The voice in your head starts listing everything you should be doing.

This is especially true for women, caregivers, and those raised in homes where "doing nothing" was shamed.
When you've been taught that your worth is in your usefulness, doing less feels like failure.

But let’s be honest: that’s not sustainable.
It’s not noble to run on empty.
It’s not brave to burn out and call it dedication.

The world tells us: “Keep going.”
But sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is stop.

South Africa’s Specific Strain

South African hustle culture has a unique flavour. Here, we’re not just dealing with internal expectations - we’re constantly navigating external stressors too.

-Loadshedding disrupting daily routines

-Crime and safety concerns keeping us in a state of vigilance

-Skyrocketing costs of living that make financial stability feel out of reach

-Collective trauma that sits just beneath the surface of our society

There’s also the emotional labour - holding space for struggling loved ones, sharing your last R20, being the “strong one” in everyone’s life.

And let’s not forget cultural beliefs about toughness. In many communities, rest is seen as weakness. Mental health is still stigmatised. You’ll hear things like:

“Depression is a luxury.”
 “You just need to think more positively.”
“Life is hard - get on with it.”

So we keep pushing. And pushing. And pushing. Until our bodies scream what our mouths never could.

Rest Is More Than Sleep

Real rest is not just what happens when your eyes are closed.
It’s what happens when your nervous system finally feels safe enough to let go.

Rest is deciding not to people-please today.
It’s turning off your phone and not feeling guilty about it.
It’s saying, “This can wait.”
It’s taking a nap without having to “earn” it.

Rest is also joy. Stillness. Creativity. Softness.
It’s being without doing.
Existing without performing.

But in a society that worships output, rest is radical.

Because when you say, “I’m enough as I am,” you’re rejecting everything capitalism wants you to believe.
You're not a machine.
You're not your to-do list.
You don't have to be productive to deserve peace.

Rest as Resistance

To rest is to resist.
To pause is to reclaim.

It’s saying: “I am not here just to survive. I am allowed to live.”

When you rest, you’re healing generations of over-functioning. You’re unlearning the idea that you only matter when you’re useful. You’re making space for pleasure, presence, and peace - not just pain and pushing.

You are allowed to slow down, even if no one around you is doing the same.

You are allowed to not be everything to everyone.

You are allowed to sit with your tea, stare out the window, and not explain yourself to anyone.

If This Feels Hard, You’re Not Alone

Learning to rest when you’ve only known survival is jarring.
Sometimes, doing nothing can feel worse than overworking - because at least when you’re busy, you don’t have to feel.

But healing asks us to feel.
To face the fatigue.
To stop and notice the toll it's taken.

That’s not failure - that’s progress.

Even if your version of rest right now is simply breathing between tasks, or not replying to a message the second it comes in - it counts.

Rest doesn’t have to look like a weekend away or a full day off.
Sometimes rest is tiny acts of rebellion, layered into an ordinary day.

Like not apologising for being tired.
Like eating without multitasking.
Like choosing yourself, quietly.

A Soft Invitation

So here’s your gentle reminder:

You are allowed to slow down.
You are allowed to not monetise every hobby.
You are allowed to exist outside of productivity.

Because your worth was never measured in your output.
Because burnout is not a badge.
Because peace was never meant to be a luxury.

Rest is not laziness.
It is remembering who you are underneath all the expectations.
It is radical softness in a world that told you to harden.
It is choosing life, not just survival.

 

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🫶 Want more honest, human conversations about slowing down, healing, and mental wellness?

follow @alleys_world for resources, reflections, and reminders that you are not alone - and you are allowed to rest.