Why I'm Choosing a Cozy Rebellion

Rest isn’t failure — it’s rebellion. A personal essay about disability, exhaustion, and finding power in living intentionally when the world is burning.                                             

       

Not everyone is cut out for the picket lines.

It’s 2025, and for many of us, it’s dangerous to be alive. The anger that simmers in my stomach eats away at me more and more every day, like acid creeping up my throat and leaving it bleeding and raw. Unable to scream anymore, my voice feels stolen.

I want to go to protests. I want to volunteer for other marginalized people. I want to donate food and money to the helpless. But… I am the helpless.

Disabled. Chronically ill. Poor. Queer. Native American. The call is coming from inside the house, and like any good millennial, I don’t like it.

I’ve spent the past couple of weeks wallowing in the fact that my body and my brain won’t let me join in protesting to save everything and everyone I hold dear. Feeling like a failure and defeated doesn’t even begin to cover it. I’m ashamed, and I spent a lot of time thrashing at myself before realizing that only benefits the aggressors.

With a sigh, I finally admitted to myself what I really needed:

Rest.

 

 

A warm, fuzzy blanket on a soft bed. A piping hot cup of tea. Maybe a few episodes of My Little Pony with my fiancée while coercing cuddles from our cat.

Needing to rest made me feel even more guilty. This is a time of action, not of lying in bed! But guilt is interesting. It means I must feel like I’ve offended somebody, and I have:

Them.

They want us worn down, battered, and bruised. Too busy being cogs in the capitalist machine to be aware of what’s going on around us. If we’re working all the time, maybe we won’t notice we’re marching ourselves into an early grave… but not until after helping the top 1% with their massive money hoards.

But what if rest isn’t a failure? What if it’s the very thing they don’t want us to do? That means…

Rest is rebellion.

If I can’t be on the picket lines, I will resist by living cozy.

That’s what I want to share here. A space of coziness and mindful living. A place you can go after being on the picket lines, after a long shift at work, or just because you need somewhere to feel safe and comfortable. It’s not always sunshine and rainbows; sometimes it’s crying with each other or quietly staring into the void. And that’s okay.

Whatever today looks like, I hope you find comfort here. A little rebellion wrapped in a blanket.