Dear Tessa,
I don’t know when trying becomes too much trying. I’ve always believed effort matters, that things worth having require work, patience, and commitment. So when something feels difficult, my instinct is to lean in, not pull away. I try to communicate better, understand more deeply, and give things more time. Lately, though, I’m starting to wonder if my effort is helping or if it’s just keeping me stuck.
I keep telling myself that walking away too soon would mean I didn’t try hard enough. That if I just stay consistent, things will eventually shift. I remind myself of the good moments, the progress that almost happens, the potential that still feels possible. Those things keep me invested, even when the effort feels one-sided.
What’s hard to admit is how tired I am. Trying has started to feel heavy instead of hopeful. I don’t feel energized by my effort anymore. I feel drained, like I’m constantly reaching toward something that never quite reaches back. And yet, the idea of stopping feels like failure. Like I’m giving up instead of being patient.
I don’t want to be someone who quits when things get uncomfortable. I value perseverance. I believe in working through challenges. But I also don’t want to keep pouring energy into something that doesn’t seem capable of meeting me where I am. I’m struggling to tell the difference between commitment and self-sacrifice.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m holding on because I still believe in what this could be, or because I’m afraid of what it means if I stop trying. Letting go feels final. It feels like admitting that my effort wasn’t enough to change the outcome. And that thought hurts more than I expect it to.
I want to make choices from clarity, not exhaustion. I want to know that if I stop trying, it’s because I’m honoring myself, not because I ran out of strength. I just don’t know where that line is, and I’m scared of crossing it too soon or too late.
So how do you know when effort is still healthy, and when it’s time to step back? How do you stop trying without feeling like you failed or abandoned something that once mattered to you?
Signed:
A woman exhausted by trying
Tessa’s Thoughts on the Subject
Effort matters, but it’s not meant to be infinite or one-sided. Healthy effort has movement. It creates response, adjustment, and shared responsibility. When trying becomes something only you are doing, it slowly stops being effort and starts becoming endurance.
Many women confuse persistence with loyalty. You’re taught that staying, fixing, and holding on are signs of strength. But strength also shows up in discernment. If your effort consistently meets resistance, silence, or minimal change, that’s not something more effort can solve.
Trying shouldn’t require you to abandon yourself. If your energy is depleted, your needs are postponed, and your voice is getting quieter, that’s not growth. That’s erosion. Effort that costs you your sense of self is not sustainable, no matter how noble it looks on the surface.
It’s also important to recognize that stopping doesn’t erase the value of what you gave. Effort is not wasted just because it doesn’t lead to the outcome you hoped for. Sometimes trying teaches you what you need to know. Sometimes it clarifies limits. Sometimes it shows you how much you’re willing to give and where you need reciprocity.
You’re allowed to reassess without rewriting the past as a mistake. You can honor what mattered while still choosing differently going forward. Letting go is not the same as quitting. It’s responding to reality instead of potential.
Tessa’s Straight-Up Perspective
Here’s the truth. You don’t stop trying because you’re weak. You stop because you’re paying attention. When effort no longer brings connection, clarity, or growth, continuing isn’t commitment. It’s self-neglect. You’re allowed to step back when trying requires you to lose yourself. Knowing when to stop isn’t failure. It’s wisdom.
Disclaimer:
Dear Tessa is written woman-to-woman — honest, imperfect, and human. It’s meant to offer comfort, clarity, and perspective, not professional guidance. You know your life best.
