There’s a phrase that floats around every conversation about healing, relationships, and empathy, “Holding space.” We say it like it’s simple. Like it’s something everyone just knows how to do. But if we’re honest… most of us don’t.

In this episode, we dig into what it really means to hold space, for others, for our partners, for our kids, and maybe most importantly, for ourselves. Because holding space isn’t about silence or passivity. It’s about presence without agenda. Compassion without control. It’s about learning how to sit in the tension between wanting to fix and being willing to feel.

From the teacher who carries everyone’s emotional weight until they’re running on fumes, to the parent in a blended family trying to navigate love and loyalty in equal measure, “holding space” becomes the quiet skill that determines whether relationships grow or quietly collapse.

This episode unpacks how “holding space” shows up in faith, too. How God holds space for us, not by rushing our process, not by demanding instant healing, but by sitting in the garden with us when all we have left are tears and questions. Because sometimes holding space looks less like a hug and more like standing guard while someone fights their inner war.

We’ll talk about the emotional cost of always being the “safe one,” the exhaustion that comes from being emotionally available in a world that rarely reciprocates, and how to know when “holding space” turns into self-erasure. You’ll hear reflections on how empathy can become a double-edged sword, how compassion can both connect and consume us if we’re not careful.

There’s honesty here, the kind that doesn’t make you feel better immediately, but makes you feel seen. Because to hold space well, you have to first believe your space is worth holding.

So this isn’t just another feel-good, self-help conversation. This is for the ones who are tired of surface-level healing, who know that empathy without boundaries is martyrdom, and who are ready to learn how to sit in the holy mess of being human.

Whether you’re a teacher, a parent, a partner, or someone who’s just trying to stay soft in a hard world, this episode is a quiet reminder that healing isn’t about fixing everything. It’s about learning how to hold what hurts without losing who you are.

We talk a lot about creative burnout like it’s just a productivity issue.

Like all you need is a better workflow, a prettier planner, or one more self-help podcast to “get your spark back.”

But what about when you’re not just burned out — you’re emotionally broke?

When the well you create from has run dry, not because you’re lazy or uninspired, but because life has just taken too much from you lately?

This episode isn’t about chasing motivation. It’s about surviving the silence that comes after your creativity stops being fun — when every idea feels heavy, and even the things that used to give you life now just ask for more of what you don’t have.

As someone who lives in the space between art and emotional honesty, I’ve learned that creativity has a cost — and sometimes, it’s your last bit of mental stability. And when you’re emotionally broke, even your best ideas come with interest you can’t afford to pay.

We’ll talk about:

• What it means to show up creatively when your inner world feels hollow.

• How to give yourself permission to pause — without guilt.

• The difference between creating for healing and creating from pain.

• And how faith fits into it all — because sometimes, prayer is the only creative act left when words stop making sense.

Because here’s the truth — when you’re emotionally broke, God doesn’t ask you to produce. He asks you to abide. You don’t need to create a masterpiece every time you feel lost. Sometimes, you just need to sit still long enough for the storm to settle and let your spirit breathe again.

I’ll share how I’ve had to unlearn the hustle of “creating through it” — how sometimes the most spiritual, most creative thing you can do is rest. I’ll talk about what it means to create from scar tissue instead of open wounds, and how that shift can make your work more honest and sustainable.

And we’ll be real about it — because yeah, it’s easy to post that “your pain has purpose” quote, but it’s harder when you’re sitting in front of a blank page, wondering if the purpose is ever going to show up.

Faith, for me, is the only thing that steadies that hand.

It’s what reminds me that creation itself was never about perfection — it was about breath. The same God who spoke galaxies into being also gave you permission to just be.

So, if you’re an artist, a teacher, a parent, or just someone who’s tired of being told to “push through it” — this one’s for you. We’re gonna talk about what happens when you stop performing and start listening. When you stop trying to impress and start to heal.

Because maybe the real art happens when we stop creating for validation and start creating for resurrection.

And maybe being emotionally broke isn’t a creative death sentence.

Maybe it’s just a holy pause — God’s way of teaching you to rebuild your art, and your heart, with Him this time.

So, pull up a chair, breathe a little deeper, and let’s talk about how to make something honest when you feel like you’ve got nothing left to give.

Because yeah — therapy is expensive.

But so is pretending you’re okay enough to keep creating.

We like to talk about boundaries like they’re free. Like they’re a mental health coupon you can clip out of a self-help book and hand to the people who drain you: “Sorry, I’m setting a boundary now.”

But the truth?

Boundaries cost something.

They cost comfort. They cost relationships. They cost reputation, and sometimes peace — the kind of peace you get from keeping the waters calm at the expense of your own sanity. Boundaries don’t come with applause. They come with silence, distance, and people who suddenly have “a problem with your tone.”

In this episode, we’re unpacking the emotional invoice of growth — the part nobody posts about. Because every time you say no, you’re saying yes to something else — your health, your faith, your sanity — but it still hurts.

I want to talk about what it feels like when you finally start choosing yourself, but it feels like losing everyone else. When protecting your peace looks a lot like isolation. When you start wondering if maybe you overdid it… or if the world just got too used to you saying yes.

And here’s the twist — this isn’t just about psychology.

Because therapy gives us tools, but faith gives us direction.

You can know all the coping mechanisms in the world, but if you don’t bring God into the spaces you’re trying to heal, you’ll just keep rearranging the same pain with different language. Boundaries without discernment are just walls. Boundaries with prayer? Those are gates — meant to open and close with purpose.

This episode walks that tightrope between emotional intelligence and spiritual obedience — where your therapist says, “protect your energy,” and God says, “protect your soul.”

I’ll share what that looks like in marriage, in family dynamics, and in burnout — especially the kind that sneaks up on you when you’re the reliable one. When you’re the one who keeps showing up until you finally realize no one’s showing up for you.

“Boundaries Are Expensive, Too” isn’t a rant — it’s a confession.

It’s me admitting that saying no doesn’t make me holy or healed. It just makes me honest. And maybe honesty is the beginning of healing.

We’ll talk about the guilt that follows the word no.

The awkward silence that comes after you enforce it.

And the sacred peace that eventually grows in the empty space that remains.

Because sometimes God prunes you by people, not to punish you, but to teach you that not everyone deserves access to your process.

So if you’ve ever felt like you’re drowning in everyone else’s expectations, if you’ve ever been told you’re “too distant” just because you started valuing your own time, if you’ve ever wondered why doing the right thing for your mental health feels so wrong… this episode is for you.

We’ll laugh a little, probably sigh a lot, and sit in that weird in-between place where faith meets fatigue and where healing feels like grief.

Because, yeah, therapy is expensive.

But boundaries?

They’ll cost you, too.

And maybe that’s okay. Because not everything that costs you something is a loss. Sometimes it’s just the down payment on peace.