There is a feeling that only those who carry the world in their arms know: a permanent state of alert. This place between fatigue and awakening, between tenderness and exhaustion, between loving too much and resting too little. Anyone who is a mother knows this. Anyone who is a caregiver knows this. Every woman knows this, even if she doesn’t have children. Because what they call “instinct” is often nothing more than responsibility accumulated over the centuries.
We know that while a woman calculates whether the baby has eaten, slept, breathed; whether the elderly mother took the medicine; whether there will be enough time for lunch; whether the work was delivered; if life is in place… Many people around just observe. Or worse: compare fatigue as if they were all the same.
Neuroscience and mental health studies show that women are more prone to chronic fatigue, anxiety and cognitive overload, precisely because they remain in a state of continuous alert. Research from Harvard Medical School and the American Psychological Association indicates that women spend up to 20 percent of their daily mental energy on invisible tasks, those that no one counts, but that support everyone’s lives. What we call the “mental load”: organize, plan, anticipate, guarantee.
Men and women do not get tired in the same way. Not because we are stronger or weaker, but because society distributes weight unequally.
This is why, when I hear “but everyone is tired”, it gives me almost physical discomfort. This is neither true nor fair. Generalized fatigue erases the effort of someone who has lived for years with their body plugged in, without interruption. And besides, taking a break is not a luxury: it is a right. Or should be.
Women are more vulnerable to burnout because they spend more time in hypervigilance. Our body learns to react quickly and take care of itself. We need to talk about specific, not generic, care. Rest that works for a man does not necessarily work for a woman. The distribution of what is used up is different, so recovery must be different too.
We are taught to care for others before we care for ourselves, and that is enough. In the form of exhaustion, anxiety, irritability, a feeling of imminent collapse. This alert that never goes off. But when we talk about disconnection, we don’t want occasional and insufficient silence. We want to be able to breathe continuously.
We want space to exist without being constantly monitored. We want care to be shared, not applauded as a solitary feminine virtue.
What I am proposing here is not an invitation to guilt, but to conscience. Recognizing the state of alert is the first step to breaking it. Understanding that self-care isn’t a one-time spa ritual, it’s about reorganizing the system that places us as the emotional operators of everything.
If society stops idealizing female hyperavailability, we may be able to build a world in which rest is not subversive. May we finally learn to turn off this state of alert, not through negligence, but for the good of our existence, beyond survival.
And may the world learn to take its part. This is one of the silent revolutions we need.
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