The People You Love Are Draining You
The Weary Heart #15
You love them.
You’d do anything for them.
But these days, every conversation leaves you feeling tired.
Not physically. But emotionally…spiritually.
And then comes the guilt.
Because how can love and exhaustion live in the same room?
Simple.
They always have.
You can love your parents and still feel suffocated by their expectations.
You can love your spouse and still feel like you're walking on eggshells.
You can love your children and still secretly long for a moment of silence.
You can love your friends and still dread every call that begins with “I need a favour.”
This is the truth most people never say out loud:
Sometimes, the people you love the most are the ones draining you the most.
And you feel like a bad person for thinking it.
You don’t want to be ungrateful.
You don’t want to hurt them.
So you keep giving.
And giving.
Until there’s nothing left to give.
Then you crash. When burnt out, you lash out.
Or you disappear quietly, hoping no one will notice that you’re breaking inside.
You don’t want to walk away.
But staying as you are feels like slow emotional erosion.
Every day, a part of you fades…
The cheerful version. The giving version. The hopeful version.
Until all that’s left is someone who smiles on the outside and quietly resents everything.
Let me offer you an analogy.
You’re a phone with a powerful battery.
But you’ve got multiple apps running.
Calls. Messages. GPS. Video. All at once.
You keep charging it for five minutes here and there.
And you realise that the drain is faster than the charge.
Eventually, even the strongest battery dies.
Not because it's faulty.
But because it was never meant to power everyone else's journey, every second of the day.
What you need is a proper charge.
Let’s take a moment to reflect on a story from the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ's life.
A lesson in love, pressure, boundaries, and wisdom.
There was once a man named Al-Aqra' ibn Habis, a tribal leader known for his harsh manner, blunt tongue, and improper etiquettes. He once saw the Prophet ﷺ kiss his grandson and remarked, “You kiss children?? I have ten and I’ve never kissed any of them!”
The Prophet ﷺ responded with calm and clarity:
“What can I do if Allah has removed mercy from your heart?” And in another narration: “He who does not show mercy (towards his children), no mercy would be shown to him.” [Muslim]
He didn’t argue.
He didn’t absorb the criticism.
He didn’t seek to change himself just to fit someone else's cold standard.
Instead, he modelled emotional intelligence. He stood firm in his values - love, mercy, gentleness - even when others mocked or misunderstood.
This moment shows us:
You don’t need to match someone’s negative energy.
You don’t need to justify how you love, or how you protect yourself to those who belittle you.
You can draw a line (respectful boundary) without drawing a “sword” (getting dragged into emotional arguments).
Let’s get honest.
You can love someone deeply and still need space from them. You can care endlessly and still say no. You can be loyal and still protect your peace.
Love without boundaries becomes a type of martyrdom. And you weren’t created to suffer in silence just to prove you care.
So here’s what I want you to reflect on:
Who in your life do you love, but feel constantly drained by?
What conversations leave you feeling depleted instead of energised?
Where are you giving without ever receiving?
Done? Now ask yourself…
What would a healthy boundary look like in that relationship?
How can you step back without stepping out completely?
How can you stay present without being consumed by emotional guilt?
The Prophet ﷺ taught compassion, but he also taught clarity.
He would give time to people, but he never let people control him. He walked away from toxicity with grace and wisdom. He created intentional spaces for solitude. He said no - even to those closest to him - when something would compromise his mission, his values, or well-being.
Look at what the Quran beautifully says:
“And the servants of the Most Merciful are those who walk upon the earth easily, and when the ignorant address them [harshly], they say [words of] peace.” [25:63]
And if he could do that,
so can you.
Maybe it's time to realise:
You’re not tired of loving.
You’re tired of overgiving.
You’re tired of not being seen.
You’re tired of not being heard.
You’re tired of having to shrink yourself just to keep the peace.
That is not love. That is emotional labour. And your soul is aching under its weight.
Here’s your gentle action plan:
Acknowledge the weight
Say it out loud or write it down. "This relationship is exhausting me." Don’t censor your truth.
“I feel drained” is not the same as “They’re toxic.” Stay with your experience. Let it teach you what you need.
Set one loving boundary this week
Maybe it’s a pause before replying.
Maybe it’s saying, “I’ll get back to you.”
Maybe it’s excusing yourself from a draining conversation.
Let your silence be a seed of healing, not a sign of rebellion.
Reclaim your recharge time
Block time to just be. Not to perform. Not to help. Just to breathe, pray, feel, and realign.
Friends, you can still love them.
But you don’t have to lose yourself to do it.
You are allowed to protect your energy and your heart.
You are allowed to live a life that doesn’t drain you.
Even the Prophet ﷺ rested.
Even he retreated to the cave.
Even he recharged between the demands.
So take this as your sign.
The people you love may still need you.
But you need you, too.
With love, clarity, and gentleness,
Mizi
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PPS: Or my next SG events?
Beautifully written and well explained.I really needed this reminder today.