Stop Telling Caregivers They’re Blessed: A Manifesto Against Toxic Positivity

Stop Telling Caregivers They’re Blessed: A Manifesto Against Toxic Positivity


Every Sunday morning, I rode the church van with my mom.

Every Saturday night before that, she cried. Pain so deep she begged God to take her. I was 11 years old, pressing my hand against where it hurt, praying it would go away. It didn't. She kept crying. I kept trying. God kept ignoring us both.

Then Sunday came.

Fake prophets. Fake hugs. Fake kisses on the cheek.

"Hang in there, baby. God's got you."
"You're the anointed one."
"You're so blessed to be chosen for this."

Blessed.

Let Me Tell You What "Blessed" Actually Looked Like

Blessed was my mom on dialysis since 1995, wishing for death every Saturday night.

Blessed was me at 11, riding two buses to get her to treatment while other kids were at soccer practice.

Blessed was me at 16, cutting grass to buy groceries because the church people who said "we'll send food" never did.

Blessed was feeling angry at God, exhausted by people, and guilty for both.

The Lies They Tell Exhausted Caregivers

"You're so strong."
No. I'm so tired. There's a difference. If I'm so strong, here carry my weight while I rest up.

"God only gives you what you can handle."
Then God miscalculated. Because I've been past my limit since I was 11.

"Everything happens for a reason."
Cool. What's the reason my mom suffered for 15 years? What's the reason I lost my childhood? I'll wait.

"I don't know how you do it."
You don't know because you never asked. You said that and walked away. Every single time.

"We'll pray for y'all. We'll send groceries. We'll check on your mom."
You didn't. None of you did. You prayed in the church van and forgot us by Monday.

"You're blessed."
Stop. Just stop.

What Exhausted Actually Means

Not the dictionary definition. The real one.

Exhausted means no days off.

Exhausted means God ignoring me.

Exhausted means I'm drowning. I need air. I'm out of breath. Can someone perform CPR and save me?

Exhausted means I can't do this shit no more.

Exhausted means God, if you chose me, find another person. I'm done. I had enough.

That's what exhausted means. Not "wow, you're handling this so well." Not "you're such an inspiration."

Just drowning. Every single day.

The Truth No One Wants to Hear

Caregiving isn't a blessing. It's survival.

It's not beautiful. It's not a testimony. It's not proof of your strength or faith or character.

It's a child watching their mother beg for death.

It's a teenager choosing between school supplies and groceries.

It's carrying weight that's breaking you while people tell you you're "chosen."

It's being so alone in a room full of people praying over you.

What Caregivers Actually Need to Hear

You're not blessed. You're exhausted.

You're not strong. You're human.

You're not chosen. You're stuck.

And that's okay. That's real. That's the truth.

You're allowed to be angry at God.

You're allowed to want to quit.

You're allowed to feel like you're drowning.

You're allowed to say "I can't do this anymore" without someone responding "but you are doing it!"

You're allowed to hate the people who say they'll help and don't.

You're allowed to be tired of being called an inspiration.

To Everyone Who's Ever Said These Things

Your words aren't helping. They're hurting.

Your prayers without action are just noise.

Your "I don't know how you do it" without offering to lighten the load is an insult.

Your toxic positivity is making exhausted people feel more alone.

If you want to help a caregiver, stop talking about blessings and start showing up.

Bring the groceries you promised.

Sit with them while they cry.

Take over for an hour so they can sleep.

Stop calling them strong and start calling them on the phone to check in.

This Is Day1Father

We don't do inspiration porn here.

We don't do toxic positivity.

We don't do "blessed" and "strong" and "anointed."

We do exhausted. We do human. We do real.

Because I was 11 on that church van, and no one told me the truth: caregiving breaks you, and that's not a testimony it's just what it is.

This brand exists for every caregiver who's tired of being told they're blessed when they're actually drowning.

You're not alone.

You're not weak.

You're just exhausted.

And that's enough.


For everyone who knows what exhausted really means.

Day1Father

Raw. Real. Unapologetic.