Marianismo’s Culture of Self-Sacrifice Burned Me Out. I’m Rebelling by Living Slowly

I’m burning out. It’s not just because I start my days early to do assignments for my small business before leading my team in my 9-to-5. It’s not only because I’m grieving the sudden loss of my best friend and soulmate and the disappearance of another close friend. And it’s not even solely because I’m currently renovating my first home, on my own, while still worrying about my folks having roofs over their heads amid job loss, health troubles, and historic rent hikes. In many ways, my burnout stems from a culture of marianismo that has taught me that womanhood is rooted in self-sacrifice, in overextending our bodies, our pockets, and our mental health, and riding-and-dying for other people and systems at our own expense.

We’ve said it before: marianismo — the sexist veneration of gendered virtues like interpersonal harmony, inner-strength, and self-sacrifice — and capitalism’s culture of unrelenting productivity harm women, especially low-income Latinas whose salaries, chores, savvy, and care are what often keep our families together and alive. And it’s not just mothers (but here is a good time to shout-out my own mami). I, and so many other single and childless Latinas I know, are also our families’ breadwinners, therapists, educators, and administrative assistants. These are hats we wear because we love our people, who may (or may not) show up for us in different ways, but it’s also labor that we are expected to force into jam-packed, 24-hour days and expenses we can barely afford, even when our salaries are often higher than theirs are.

For the last couple years, I thought I had this supermujer syndrome under control. In 2020, after realizing I’d given away $20,000 to support friends and family all while falling behind on my student loans and hurting my credit score, I started going to therapy, where I learned how to create boundaries with loved ones and build a self-care routine, which included morning meditations, body movement, and working outdoors where I can catch some sun rays. But somewhere amid working, healing, resting, and (still) holding my folks’ — and the world’s — troubles on my shoulders, I didn’t schedule in time for living — and honestly, I have no idea where I can fit it in.  

Now that grief has disrupted every aspect of my universe and forced me to seriously reflect on the meaning of life, I’ve realized how many years I’ve spent self-sacrificing rather than living. The truth: I’m not sure how to slow down and just be. I was never taught how to. Like me, the women in my life have also poured all of themselves into their loved ones (one of them being me), leaving no time, energy, or money left for them. To help me, my matriarchs, and probably you, I sought out some advice from women whose intention to live life more slowly and fully has inspired me.

Living slowly is living intentionally. It’s not operating as a machine. Even if we are doing things we don't want to do, we are aware of that, and that is where we get our power. 

Leaving New York — where the culture is hustle, hustle, work, work — and moving to LA, which obviously still comes with a lot of expenses, in 2015 gave me opportunities to look at things differently. The days were just slower. I enjoyed that. It allowed me to notice things about myself that I had previously missed because I was always on the go. This made me want to intentionally live slower. Now, I walk for leisure. My grandmother told me she used to do this in Panama, but I don’t see my family in the U.S. do it. Every night, I walk for 30 minutes after dinner with my partner and our dog. It’s a way to connect. Also, studies show that the brain reacts really well when our peripheral view changes, so walking and running help the brain to slow down and see our surroundings. I also find small moments where I can do light yoga, meditation, or journaling. Also, when I can, I work from the spa. In LA, there’s a women-only Korean spa where you can spend $20 and be there the whole day, so I try to go for self-care while responding to emails two times every month. 

In my deepest states, whether I got there through meditation, breathwork, or psychedelics, I discovered that this mindset of sacrifice, fear, and struggle comes from my lineage and my culture, but that it’s not true for me and it’s not working for me, either. I felt bound to struggle because that’s all I had seen. Don’t get me wrong; there is a lot of material evidence for why we feel like we need to work around the clock and hustle: rents are high, our families need help, we need to eat, and more. These worries keep us at this unsustainable speed. Disaster feels like it’s just under the surface. I know this. I lived in poverty and worked three jobs to get by. However, when I started to slow down, I had the time to watch things and to see things shift. Because I was slower in my lifestyle, I noticed that things were going better for me, I had better ideas, and I experienced mystical chance meetings while just sitting at the coffee shop. I was happier and healthier. 

I have never been so healthy and so at peace. I used to be anxious, even with my meditation (and I’ve been practicing meditation and different wellness modalities since I was four years old). When I started to make this a lifestyle, and not just the hour I go to yoga, I was healthier and happier. When I was working multiple jobs for years, I felt like I could never get ahead. But when I started to shift and be like, what if I don't have to sacrifice my health and what if I live slower, spend more time cultivating my gifts, and demand to be paid more, my whole life became better. All of us have a birthright to live our gift. It might take time to get to that. We’ve been taught we have to sell ourselves for jobs, especially those of us who grew up as low-income women of color, but this belief system also keeps us locked in on what we can’t have instead of what we can have.

Living slowly means being present.

This was the mentality in my family; it’s how I was raised. My mom doesn’t take breaks, and I honestly don’t think it’s something most Latinas know how to do. I internalized this. I graduated from high school with honors. The day I graduated, I was offered a full-time position at Deutsche Bank. Throughout college, I was working full-time at the bank. I never gave myself a break, and I never stopped to think if this was actually what I wanted. I just became a banker because I was good at numbers and it’s what my family wanted. Five years into the job, I realized I was depressed. Depression isn’t something we talk about much in the Latine community. When I approached my mom about how I was feeling, she said, “we all go through that. Just keep going.” I realized that was my tipping point. It was the darkest moment in my life, and I was having wild thoughts and crying every day at work. I was not pursuing my passions or my dreams. I was not becoming the person I knew I should be. So I quit banking and redesigned my career and myself as a human. I wanted to feel better and be better. I remember going on Google and researching “how to become a better human being?” That’s how I started becoming sustainable, learning about veganism, and applying what I was learning in my life and work.  

For me, living slowly means allowing myself to listen to my inner voice, to have deep conversations with myself that only happen when I give myself that opportunity and permission to not do that much, to not have nonstop routines and schedules, and to not have my mind filled with thoughts. Part of living slowly is connecting with your creativity. I’m starting to make things instead of buying them. I’ve also been cooking more at home and growing an organic garden. It’s made me more patient and has brought me peace.

I think it’s still in the process of changing. I do want to be clear: this isn't easy, and it doesn’t happen overnight. This hustle mentality rules our society and our economy. Everyone is rushing. It's hard to unlearn this mentality and take breaks. Oftentimes, I still feel like I'm doing something wrong. I feel like I'm redesigning my life for a third time. When I left banking and started doing work in sustainability, I found something I was much more passionate about, but I still did not have a healthy balance and I was not prioritizing myself. I was still living a fast lifestyle and was approaching this work from a place that felt rooted in consumption, not transformation. I had to change that. Doing so has been beautiful. I began seeing the world with kinder eyes. Something that slow living teaches is there is no competition. In eliminating that, there’s no focus on comparison. Instead, the focus is on collaboration. 

Start by separating one day from your busy agenda just for yourself — not for your family, just yourself. Also, try something that gets you out of your comfort zone, especially if it sparks your creativity. Do not worry about perfection; this is not about judging yourself. I like art — painting, learning an instrument, singing, etc. — because the practice literally forces you to go slow.  

Living a life full of meaning and alignment.

I saw it from my mom and the women in my life, and it was also expected of me. My mom is one of five sisters. She immigrated from the Dominican Republic as a kid and grew up in a conservative home. Religion plays a big role in marianismo and machismo and the roles and expectations placed on women. Women literally have no control over our bodies, and that includes being forced to follow scripts that tell us we must go, go, go, self-sacrifice, and take care of everyone but ourselves. To this day, when I advise my mom to take a nap, she responds saying, "no, I have shit to do." I tell her that she can spare 40 minutes, but she has really internalized this idea that there is no time for pause, she can't stop, and life will blow up if she does. Personally, it took me a long time to unlearn this, and because I have, it's critical for me to establish boundaries with my family, clients, social media followers, and people in general.

It’s interesting because gendered self-sacrifice is embedded in our Latine culture, and hustle is a part of the U.S. culture, especially here in New York. It’s go-go-go from everywhere. New York City has literally been nicknamed “The City That Never Sleeps.” Not in this house! Yo duermo. Setting these boundaries and ensuring that I have all the time I need for sleep, rest, and relaxation has allowed me to cultivate this life that feels easier. Don’t get me wrong; I’m out here surviving in these streets, but I do it in a way that I want to rather than by sacrificing my joy, passion, peace, or rest.

Taking my time. Great things take time, and I remind myself and practice this by being unrushed, deliberate, and patient. This is most visible in my morning routine: I meditate, I smoke, and I chill out for three to four hours. I really prioritize peace, rest, and pleasure in my life. 

Separate yourself from the roles you play. For instance, some folks play the teacher role from 9 to 5 and then go into the parent role. Obviously, working parents need to have a job and be present with their children, but try to disconnect from the roles, and the expectations of those roles, and live and experience life as a human, not just an employee or parent. Go to the park, look at the trees, and breathe in fresh air. Make an elaborate breakfast and enjoy a cafecito. I want to feel like I have more control over my life than the systems I navigate. Not everyone has that ability or access, especially people who are incarcerated, but this is the life I toiled for and deserve as a Brown queer woman in this country. I want us all to have the energy to show up for ourselves and see how the opportunities come when we do. This is that alignment I’m talking about that comes with slow living.

Living slowly feels very challenging. I like to rephrase it as living intentionally and checking in with yourself constantly.

I grew up going to Mexico, where I saw this the most. Men ate first, and women ate last. As a child, I was like, this doesn't seem right. Why can't we all be together? Why is there this separation of genders? But this came up for me in the U.S., too. As a child in this country, I couldn't take a nap. There was always work to do. I remember when I first got my period, I was in pain and also confused about the shame around menstruation, but then my dad told me to help him with whatever it was he was working on. I contributed a lot to the household, even as a child. I also never saw my parents rest. Even now that they are retired, I see my mom giving my dad a hard time for resting. She feels like she has to be doing and going at all times. It’s cultural, but it’s also a part of our nervous system. When you have experienced a lot of trauma and stress, as many do in our communities, your body feels unsafe when it goes into a relaxed state. You feel vulnerable and start to panic. As Latinas, we have to do a lot of deprogramming to get to a place where our body and mind feel safe enough to rest.

I've given myself permission to enjoy it. I was conditioned to always work, work, work, especially when I'm feeling uncertain. I’ve had to learn to feel safer and trust my feminine energy, because I spent too much time in the masculine. In being the eldest daughter in my immigrant home, I was a parent to my sister and, in some ways, to my parents. I was their translator, I was their driver, and I can even remember a time when I was much younger and my dad asked me to help him get sober. All of this impacts the person you are, and I had to tell myself, “I'm not responsible for other people’s healing and life.” I can be of service to help them when they’re ready, but that’s not my job. This was an important lesson to learn. After that, I learned how to feel safe in rest and play. Living slower and more intentionally has also helped me feel more aligned, authentic, and peaceful in my life. It feels like less effort. I’m attracting so much of what I always wanted. 

I advise my clients to use their breath to check in with themselves and to offer them a moment to pause every day. Your breath reflects your emotions. If you're breathing rapidly, your body is telling you that you are anxious, nervous, or stressed out. But if your breathing feels easy and long, then you’re in a relaxed state and are probably happy and at peace. That simple connection with the body and breath provides information, and you can use that to change how you are feeling. Connecting with the breath can change your nervous system. It’s the reason why people tell you to take deep breaths when you’re experiencing a panic attack. You can make yourself calmer or more energized with the breath.