When Did Your Empathy Become Your Creative Prison?

You know that feeling when you sit down to write and... nothing? Not because you don't have ideas. Not because you lack talent. But because you're too full of everyone else's everything to access your own anything?

If you're an empathic woman who creates - or who used to, before the world decided your nervous system was a public utility - this is for you.

The Block Nobody Talks About

We've all heard about writer's block. Fear of the blank page. Imposter syndrome. Perfectionism. But there's another kind of creative paralysis that doesn't get nearly enough airtime: empathic saturation.

You're not blocked because you're afraid or lazy or lacking discipline. You're blocked because you've been so busy holding space for everyone else that there's no space left for you. Your sister's divorce lives in your chest. Your friend's work stress is lodged in your shoulders. The collective grief of your social media feed has taken up residence in the exact spot where your creative voice used to be.

And then someone casually asks, "So, how's your writing going?"

The Radical Act of Coming Home

I wrote something for you. Something intense and uncomfortable and probably too honest. It's called "The Unbearable Weight of Everyone Else's Everything: A Survival Guide for the Empathic Woman Who Can't Create" and it's not a gentle, self-compassionate guide to finding your muse.

It's a wake-up call.

Because here's what I know: your empathy is not the problem. Your capacity to feel deeply is a gift. The problem is that you've been taught that feeling someone's pain means fixing it. That caring means carrying. That love means losing yourself.

The article walks you through the brutal work of reclaiming your creative life - not by becoming less empathic, but by learning to feel without drowning. By understanding that boundaries aren't betrayal. By practicing the radical act of coming home to yourself, again and again, until it becomes automatic.

But Here's the Thing About Reading

Reading about creative blocks doesn't unblock you. Understanding your patterns doesn't automatically change them. Knowing you need boundaries doesn't make saying no any easier.

You need practice. You need community. You need other empathic women who get it, who are fighting the same fight, who won't let you disappear into caretaking mode when you're supposed to be writing.

Join Us: The Writer's Reclamation

That's why I'm hosting 2 Events - a mindful mix between a workshop/retreat/intensive/haven specifically designed for women who are ready to stop abandoning their creative work every time someone needs them.

When: 22 February and 1st March

This isn't your typical writing workshop. We're not doing prompts and craft exercises (though there will be some of that). We're doing the deeper work: learning to recognize when you've left yourself, practicing the immediate return, building the muscle of creative selfishness that doesn't feel like cruelty.

You'll learn:

• How to recognize empathic saturation before it derails your entire creative practice

• Boundary techniques that actually work for people who feel everything

• The practice of "selfish hours" that protect your creative time without guilt

• How to distinguish between "I feel your pain" and "Your pain is mine to fix"

• Community support from other women who understand the specific hell of being too open
  

We're meeting twice. Small group only - because this work requires safety and depth, not a crowd.

This Is Your Permission Slip

You keep waiting for someone to tell you it's okay to put yourself first. To protect your time.

To say no. To prioritize your art.

I'm telling you: it's okay.

Your creative life matters. Your voice matters. Your work matters. Not because it serves someone else or heals someone else or helps someone else. But because it's yours.

Read the article. Feel the discomfort. Notice what it stirs up.

And then, if you're ready to actually do something about it - if you're tired of drowning, tired of being endlessly available, tired of carrying everyone else's stories while your own goes unwritten - join us.

Register here → Email us medispace@protonmail.com  and we'll book a short call to ease you into it

Space is limited because this work can't happen in a crowd. It requires intimacy, honesty, and women who are done performing selflessness at the expense of their own creative souls.

Are you one of them?

P.S. If reading the article made you feel guilty, defensive, or like you should probably skip the event to take care of something "more important" first - that's exactly why you need to be there.