Café Sin Luly: The Day I Chose Rest Over Proving Myself

Last week, I had pneumonia. And for the first time in a very long time, I made the decision not to push through.

The event called Café con Luly (Coffee with Luly) happened without me there to host it. It was, quite literally, Café sin Luly (Coffee without Luly). Instead, three BOOSTIES (members of my BOOST community of women business owners) stepped in and led the morning beautifully. I requested their support, then prepared them, and supported them behind the scenes. I followed up with attendees afterward, and made sure the experience remained intentional and impactful. But physically, I was not in the room.

The event was still amazing. The conversations still happened. Women still connected. The energy, encouragement, and sense of community were all still there. Nothing fell apart because I wasn’t there holding every piece together. And that has stayed with me all week.

Fifteen years ago, I wrote a book titled “Balance is Bull$!t.” At the time, I was speaking to the impossible standards women were trying to live up to while juggling careers, motherhood, relationships, responsibilities, and the pressure to somehow do it all flawlessly. As a young mom, a devoted wife and someone who absolutely loved her career, I found myself angry with the advice I received often to “just balance.”

And while I still believe “balance” is often an unrealistic expectation for women leading full lives, I’ve come to understand something even more important over the years. There’s a difference between being committed and being consumed.

So many professional women are carrying invisible weight. Whether you’re a business owner, a CEO, a community leader, or leading a division inside a corporation, there is often this unspoken expectation that you must always be available, always capable, always “on.”

You become the problem solver, the emotional support system, the decision-maker, the dependable one. Before we know it, so many of us begin tying our value to how much we can carry and how much we can endure.

I know that mentality well because for years, I lived it.

The old version of me would have absolutely shown up sick. Hair done. Lipstick on. Smiling through the exhaustion while privately running on fumes. And people probably would have applauded my dedication. They would have called me committed. Reliable. Devoted. Strong.

But receiving the videos and photos from the event and still hearing “Café con Luly was so great!” hit me deeply. It reminded me there is no reward for self-abandonment. No prize for ignoring your body. No trophy waiting for the woman who proves she can carry everything at the expense of herself.

For so many high-achieving women, leadership quietly becomes performance. We convince ourselves that being valuable means being constantly available, constantly needed, constantly holding everything together.

And last week, I proved that being valuable means something completely different from what so many of us believe. I trusted the women I’ve invested in. I allowed community to do what community is designed to do. And in the process, I reminded others that healthy leadership is not about becoming indispensable. It’s about building people and relationships strong enough to continue thriving even when you need to step away for a moment.

For years, I unconsciously believed my presence was the glue. But maybe real leadership is creating spaces where other people feel empowered enough to lead too. Maybe the goal is not to build businesses, communities, or teams that collapse without us. Maybe the goal is to build something healthy enough to continue flourishing even when we pause.

That requires a different kind of strength. The kind rooted in discernment. Knowing when to lead from the front and when to step back. Knowing when to push and when to pause. Knowing when your body is asking for care instead of pressure.

This matters because so many women are over-functioning right now. We are managing households, businesses, teams, aging parents, children, marriages, expectations, and endless responsibilities while quietly convincing ourselves that depletion is simply the price of ambition.

I don’t believe women need to destroy themselves to prove they are committed. I don’t believe suffering in silence makes us stronger. And I certainly don’t believe exhaustion is proof of excellence. In many ways, staying home last week was one of the healthiest leadership decisions I’ve made in years. Not because I avoided responsibility, but because I honored myself while still honoring the mission.

Sometimes the most powerful thing a leader can do is trust what she has built. And sometimes the most powerful thing a woman can do is rest.