Don’t set yourself on fire to keep others warm. Sometimes the most radical act of compassion is the one you extend to yourself.
“I remember during my clinical rotation in the neonatal unit, there was a night that etched itself into my bones. A young mother had just delivered twins prematurely, and the room buzzed with a quiet urgency as the team worked to stabilize the fragile babies. The mother was scared, utterly overwhelmed, and as the nurse assigned to her, I felt her desperation settle on my shoulders like lead.
I stayed past my shift, made phone calls to social workers, held her hand during consults, and quietly skipped meals and rest, convincing myself it was what compassion looked like. After all, wasn’t that what we were called to do? Be present. Be available. Be selfless.
But then, three days later, I collapsed in the break room, dehydrated, exhausted, emotionally frayed. The charge nurse found me slumped over, and I’ll never forget the look in her eyes when she said, “You’re no good to anyone if you’re running on empty.”
That was my turning point.
The truth is, many of us who dedicate our lives to service, whether in medicine, family, or community, struggle with boundaries. We measure our worth by how much of ourselves we give away. But there is no medal for martyrdom, and burnout doesn’t help the people we’re trying to save.”
By Nurse Eliza
As a Nigeria, a country brimming with promise yet plagued by deep, systemic problems, there’s a natural pull to help. Especially for those of us in the diaspora, the requests never stop. Every message from back home carries urgency, from real emergencies to baffling requests that feel like you’re being asked to fund someone’s luxury dream on your modest paycheck.
And because we care, because we know the struggle, we give. And give. And give. Until one day, you look around and realize you’ve worked yourself to the bone, teetering on exhaustion and quietly slipping into depression. You’ve sacrificed vacations, postponed joy, and neglected retirement, all to help others stay afloat.
But here’s the truth: If you’re not wise, if you don’t set boundaries, you will work yourself into the ground and grow old with nothing saved for your twilight years.
Never forget that no matter how hard you push yourself to save others, the world won’t pause when you burn out. The music will keep playing, and the very people you thought couldn’t survive without you will carry on just fine.
Not everyone is worthy of the fruits of your labor and as Hippocrates once said, before you set out to heal someone, ask if they’re ready to release what made them ill in the first place.
It’s noble to help others. It’s beautiful to care deeply. But it is not sustainable to do so at the expense of your own well-being. You can’t pour from an empty cup. Don’t set yourself on fire to keep others warm.
Sometimes the most radical act of compassion is the one you extend to yourself.
Osmund Agbo is a medical doctor and author. His works include, Black Grit, White Knuckles: The Philosophy of Black Renaissance and a fiction work titled The Velvet Court: Courtesan Chronicles. His latest works, Pray, Let the Shaman Die and Ma’am, I Do Not Come to You for Love, have just been released.
