A young girl with black hair playing a digital piano in a room, surrounded by music-related items including a guitar, sheet music, and a photo.

Hi, I’m Rachael. Welcome to Too Tired to be Inspired.

A young girl with dark hair and bangs sitting at a dining table, holding a pink plush toy, smiling at the camera, surrounded by open books.
A couple is holding and looking at a newborn baby indoors.

Then came writing, again. In 2022, a few freelance gigs helped me rediscover the magic of words, especially when I got to tell other people’s stories. After giving birth to my son in 2024, I sat down to write about my labour and delivery experience and the story poured out. Maternity leave gave me the time and space to slow down and I was reminded just how much I truly love to write.

But here’s the thing no one tells you: rediscovering your passion doesn’t always come with boundless energy. On maternity leave, I had time to reflect but no stamina to “make it all happen.” I was swimming in ideas but too exhausted to bring them to life. It was in that tension, between burnout and brilliance, Too Tired to Be Inspired was born.

This is a space for the quietly brilliant and creatively exhausted.  It’s for the ones with a million notes in their phone, a half-written novel on their desktop, or a business idea scribbled on the back of a receipt. Here, we celebrate the sparks and the nearly-there thoughts. There’s no pressure to publish, perform, or push through—just a cozy community that reminds you that unfinished doesn’t mean unworthy.

Some creations live quietly in Google Drive, just like my son’s birth story— never shared, yet still deeply meaningful. I hope this space can be the same for you: a quiet corner of comfort, a reminder that you're not alone in your creative chaos. You don’t need to light the fire here — just come and stay cozy by it.

Rachael

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been creative. As a 9 year old, I filled my Scooby-Doo notebooks with everyday musings and long lists of reasons why my sister was annoying. I taught myself Fur Elise on a little keyboard while hiding away in my bedroom. I even researched and wrote about the harmful effects of declawing for cats, just for fun (obviously). It was clear that I had a big imagination and expressing myself through the arts came naturally to me.

At the end of high school, I remember struggling to pick a university major. Most of my friends were headed into the sciences, and I often wondered if I should follow the same path.  I knew deep down that wasn’t the field for me and told myself, if I study what I love, it’ll all work out. That whisper of wisdom led me to a degree in English and Music and eventually, to becoming an elementary teacher. I hoped to help kids find the same kind of creative outlet that had always grounded me.

Teaching became my entire personality, but after a few tough years in the classroom, burnout brought me to a really negative place. I started to feel completely disconnected from the work I once believed was my purpose.