Have you ever held back from sharing something heavy because you didn’t want to burden someone else? I know I have. For a long time, I believed that speaking my truth meant handing my pain to someone else—like my struggles would become theirs to carry. But what if that wasn’t actually true?

I’ve always imagined our burdens as rocks we carry in an invisible backpack. It’s based on an activity I did during a retreat I attended in high school. We were asked to pick up a rock to symbolize each of the things in our lives that weighed us down. Then, we carried them with us until the end of the retreat, when we could finally release them.
By the end of the retreat, I was ready to let go of those rocks—my “baggage.” They had become a burden, getting in the way, but the familiarity and attachment I’d developed made it harder to release them than I expected.
What are you carrying that’s weighing you down? What have you grown tired of? What’s blocking the life you want, and are you ready to let it go? Is there part of you that’s become protective or attached to what you carry?
That retreat experience has stayed with me, and recently I was reminded of it when I sat down with my angels and guides, opened my Akashic Records, and asked for clarity on what’s been weighing me down.

Recently, I sat with some friends in a vulnerable moment and shared the weight I’d been carrying over the past few weeks. I revealed the shame I felt about the idea that sharing my struggles might burden others. It was that old belief showing up again—that if I unburden myself, it shifts onto someone else.
I asked my guides if that belief was true. They showed me a different perspective: Sharing our burdens doesn’t mean passing them on. Instead, it creates space for deeper connection—allowing others to see us more fully. And when we share, we offer them a gift—one we offer with care to those who have shown they can hold it.
Being vulnerable doesn’t mean unloading every painful detail without boundaries or awareness of the person receiving it. True connection happens when we share with care—honoring our own story and the presence of the person who listens.
It’s about gently peeling back layers, meeting our edge of discomfort without pushing past it, staying connected to our bodies, and remaining present. In this kind of sharing, we honor not just our experience but the relationships that hold space for it, letting ourselves be held and truly seen.
My guides also helped me understand that when I share difficult past experiences or heavy emotions from the present, those who listen temporarily hold the weight of what I carry—but they don’t take it with them. Once the exchange is over, the energy is released. I can let go, and so can they.

When we share, it’s not about handing our burdens to someone else—it’s about allowing them to be witnessed, so they no longer have to live inside us alone. It’s like floating in the water of a river, letting it keep us afloat when we feel like we might drown. It offers us rest and support, and as we release what we carry, the current gently sweeps it away, leaving us lighter, freer.
My guides also wanted to remind me about the importance of releasing what we carry when we’re on the receiving end of another’s vulnerability. I’ve struggled with this since I was a kid—carrying others’ burdens, sometimes without even realizing it. It’s a habit I’m still learning to change.
So how do we hold space for others without taking on their pain ourselves?
It looks like listening deeply, validating their emotions, and making space for them without the need to fix or solve anything.
When we care about someone, it’s hard to see their pain and not want to make it better. It’s a natural impulse—we want to help, to alleviate their discomfort so we can feel better, too. But trying to fix things can come at a cost—not just for them, but for us as well.
Sometimes, the greatest support we can offer is simply holding space, without trying to fix or change their experience.
It’s not our job to fix other people’s problems.
Our greatest gift is witnessing their stories, supporting them in ways that empower them, and sitting with them in the discomfort of their emotions. Supporting others may call us to grow, to take a stand, or even to take action—but we must be careful not to take on their burdens or disempower them in the process.
And when that space holding ends, we release it. It’s not ours to carry.
And hopefully, the person sharing has also released some of their load and feels lighter too.
Remember, we’re never alone in this process. We can always call on a higher power—whether the universe, angels, ancestors, or simply the energy of love—to help us surrender and release what we carry.

So, what are you carrying that no longer serves you? What would it feel like to set it down, even just for a moment? You don’t have to hold it all alone. There’s support—in the people who love you, in the spiritual guidance surrounding you, and in the simple act of allowing yourself to be seen.
If you're ready to release what no longer serves you and create space for healing and connection, I’m here to support you. Together, we can explore the burdens you carry and help you step into the freedom of sharing your truth. Reach out, and let's start this transformative process together.