Do You Know Your Capacity?

I was raised by parents who mercilessly pushed themselves beyond their capacity. Respecting one’s energy limits was a foreign concept to me until adulthood. Instead I witnessed two humans who blew past their limits on a regular basis.

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My father was the first person up in our home when I was a child. He never slept in, even on the weekends. He made it home for family dinners but went back to work afterwards. When the weekends came, he worked then too. He dedicated every part of himself to working. Even our vacations were “work trips” for him.

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As kids we were guaranteed to see him for church three times a week. But I have no memories of watching TV with him after dinner or resting on the couch or pursuing hobbies. He did not read books or exercise, or do anything fun. He did not attend school performances or award ceremonies. He never cheered on the sidelines of a swim meet or a volleyball game. Instead he worked and then he worked some more.

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I wonder if he knows his capacity. He is the man who reports no physical pain following open heart surgery. Is his capacity really larger than the rest of us, or is he cut off from himself? Is he superhuman or divorced from his body?

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My mother fit alongside him perfectly. She projected a superhuman presence. She did it all - Susie homemaker. She cooked all the meals and did all the cleanup. She made the daily school lunches and prepared warm breakfasts. She decorated our home with the skill of an interior decorator. She volunteered at church events, worked at the thrift store, hosted church potlucks and silent auctions. She sewed my clothes and altered prom dresses.

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My mom never stopped or sat down. She may have been limping through the holiday baking, but damn, all the cookies would be made. She pushed through illness and injury like a woman with something to prove. She set the bar high and I have been falling behind my whole life.

As a kid, I was expected to push through. The normally scheduled programming had to keep going. There was no stopping. I went to school with mononucleosis, didn’t miss out from ear infections or strep throat. No wonder my health status is compromised today.

Self-care is knowing your capacity and respecting it. It requires both parts, the knowing and the honoring. It is knowing your energy (what pushes you too far, what energizes you, what depletes you, when you need to stop). We must honor our capacity, otherwise it is useless information.

Our energy shifts, it’s not a static constant. Instead it varies with the seasons, with periods of time, with the demands in your life, with illness. We must first know where these energy limits are and keep adjusting.

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It means that we continuously assess what we have capacity for and approach it without shame. There is no shame in having less energy in a season. This is not a moral failure. It’s a natural part of being human. Given the complexity of living these days, and all that our nervous systems are up against, we need to assess our capacity more frequently and approach it from a nonjudgmental stance.

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After we’ve identified what we have capacity for, we need to actually respect the limit. It is not enough to know what’s too much. We have to do something about it. We have to act on it. Even if people don’t understand and think we are weird for declining an invitation.

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One of my greatest personal journeys has been accepting my energy and capacity and not judging myself when I feel I am falling behind. Extending self-compassion has been a growing edge in my personal therapy. I enter a danger zone when I compare myself to others, when I judge myself against someone else’s best. Again and again, I return to this reminder of honoring my unique makeup and treating my temperament with kindness.

For the longest time, I was aware of my energy limits but blew right past them. I pushed myself in ways that were unkind and I did not respect my needs. I knew that a trip to visit family would exhaust me but I went anyway. Saying “yes” would cost me a great deal, but I didn’t take the costs too seriously. It was only when I was experiencing burnout more frequently and more violently, when I found myself in a place where I couldn’t easily repair the damage, that I knew I had to make a change. There was no self-caring my way out.

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Because of this abuse to my energy, my capacity receded further and illness repeatedly found me. My body had to shout louder and louder at me to get my attention. As I moved through the recovery of depleting exhaustion, I learned to think first and foremost - Do I have the energy for this right now? If I say yes, what will it cost me and can I afford it?

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As empaths and highly sensitive people, we live in a world that is repeatedly overstimulating. That is the baseline. The world challenges our capacity on a regular basis. Because we are sensitive to the needs and feelings of others, we often commit ourselves in ways that exceed our limits. People-pleasing often gets tangled with empathy and sensitivity, and then we find that we’ve pushed beyond our capacity to a breaking point, depleted and burned out.

Respecting our energy may look like saying no to an invitation. It may mean early bedtimes and slower mornings. It may look like rhythms and rituals you follow that keep you grounded. It may mean disappointing people because you don’t have the bandwidth to show up.

I am reminded that the greatest relationship we have is with ourselves. What does it look like to tend to that relationship first?

Do you know your capacity? Are you ashamed of your limitations or do you care for them? Do you honor it, treat it kindly like a good friend?

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