Emotional WiFi: Scrambled @Xmas
“Pope, this Christmas ehn, I just need to disappear ooo. My account is bleeding, school fees are waiting in January, and everywhere I turn, people expect me to perform miracles. The pressure is choking me.”
That is what my friend blurted out recently—his voice thick with frustration, his eyes clouded with exhaustion. I didn’t interrupt. I just listened. Because I knew that feeling too well. I had been there. Not long ago, in fact.
So I pulled up a chair, looked him in the eye, and began to share my own story.
There was a season in my life when I was constantly on the move—city to city, job to job, event to event. My days were packed with work, and my nights and weekends were swallowed by social obligations. I was always “on,” always performing. And everywhere I travelled to, I would ask myself, “Who do I know here?” Then I’d start calling people—not because I needed to, but because I feared the guilt-laced “You came and didn’t tell me?” if they chanced upon me.
In some instances I would skip meals just to save money for souvenirs. I would stretch my stipend to buy gifts for people who barely noticed, let alone appreciated them. I even found myself begging for favours from people I considered close—only to be told they didn’t have the capacity. Then I would watch those same people go above and beyond for others. Yet, I kept showing up for them. I kept giving. I kept draining.
Eventually, I hit a wall—emotionally, financially, spiritually. I was running on fumes.
One evening, after a particularly exhausting trip, I stopped by to see one of my mother figures. She took one look at me and said, “Kofi, do you know your biggest problem? You live like you owe the whole world a living.”
I tried to explain. “But Ma, if I don’t reach out, and they find out I was around…”
She cut in gently, “Some people, yes. But all of them?”
She let me talk. She listened. Then she asked, “Of all the people you chase down, how many would reach out to you if they came to your city—without needing something?”
That question hit me like a slap wrapped in silk.
She smiled and said, “Use that as your compass. Match energy with energy. Stop overextending yourself for people who only show up with empty bowls. Prioritise those who pour into you too. And give with intentionality.”
That conversation changed me.
I realised that kindness doesn’t mean being constantly available. Generosity doesn’t mean spending beyond your means. And loyalty? It’s not about how many people you show up for—it’s about showing up for those who would do the same for you, only exception is when you are divinely directed to do otherwise.
Reflectintrospection
You don’t owe everyone access or provision. Stop living like the world sent you an invoice. It didn’t.
Being busy for no reason isn’t noble. Overcommitting isn’t a badge of honour—it’s a shortcut to burnout and compassion fatigue.
Match energy. Don’t chase it. If they wouldn’t do it for you, why are you doing it for them?
Guilt is not a compass. Let your values—not fear—guide your yes and your no.
Boundaries are love turned inward. Protect your peace like it’s your most precious possession—because it is. Stop forcing yourself into circles where you are not accepted. Stop being people pleasers. That wasted energy could have built you to the point where you wouldn’t need to beg them to survive.
And yet, in all this, don’t forget: this season is still about love. Budget wisely, but reach out to the poor, the lonely, the elderly, the weary. Lift someone up. That is the kind of giving that multiplies.
Serenity Prayer
Dear Lord,
Grant us the peace to rest without guilt,
The wisdom to discern who truly deserves our energy and resources,
And the courage to stop overextending ourselves.
Amen.


Prof. Evans Agbeno
neoreportgh@gmail.com
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