Welcome to The Modest Journal
My name is Morgan Conner and I am a lover of all things words. I have been told once or twice that I should write a book, I don't know if I am ready for all of that (or who would even read it) so I thought a blog would be a good place to start. This journal is dedicated to you, may it be everything you need it to be and more.
The Modest Journal Entries
Recent Posts
Next Blog Post Is Live In:
Days
Hours
Minutes
Seconds

For most of my life, I thought being available to everyone made me a good person. I said yes to more than I could carry Yes to extra work when I was already tired Yes to conversations I wasn’t emotionally ready for Yes to plans that drained me more than they filled me. I overextended, overcommitted, overcompensated . I wanted to be dependable, kind, and easy to love. And somewhere along the way, I convinced myself that setting boundaries was the opposite of all of that. I didn’t realize then that every “yes” I gave out of guilt or fear came at the cost of myself. This all has gotten much much worse as pregnancy has gone on. All that extra energy that I was allocating for giving of myself to others has now been allocated to growing femurs, creating eyeballs, and an endocrine system (and obviously much much more). While that may not sound like a lot, it's exhausting . Pregnancy is the equivalent metabolically of running a marathon every single day for 10 months. If any Karen out there feels like that's “ not that bad ” please let me know where I can watch you run 7969.1754 miles. I’ll bring the snacks and my opinions. While my situation in life changed and became more draining physically and emotionally, the requirements of me placed by others did not. If anything, somehow people seem to need more of me. Honestly, it's crazy to me how that was even possible cause I was pretty stretched thin before. It’s one of the negatives of handling things well, people think you just have it all under control. They don’t see the boiling pressure underneath. Cue Luisa from Encanto singing Surface Pressure. It didn’t look dramatic from the outside. It rarely does. It was more like a quiet depletion. The kind that builds slowly—through little resentments, subtle burnout, and the aching feeling that you’re constantly showing up for others, but rarely for yourself. Or that they rarely show up for you . I was tired, but I didn’t feel like I had permission to rest. I was overwhelmed, but I didn’t know how to ask for space. I kept pushing past my limits because I didn’t want to be seen as difficult or selfish. But boundaries, I’ve learned, are not selfish. They’re essential. And learning to set them has been one of the most transformative parts of my growth . The person out there telling me that I need to take a step back the most and the loudest, my wonderful husband and partner. It has gotten to the point where he has asked to say no to people on my behalf. It’s funny that it takes him, calm, level headed, and rational , to be upset at the circumstances to remind me that my feelings about it have been valid the whole time . It becomes much easier to see these kinds of things sometimes with the outside perspective. Knowing that we have a little one on the way who depends on us not just to give him time, energy, resources, etc. but to also teach him how to handle these situations, establish boundaries, and navigate stresses in life also puts this into perspective for me. I never want my son to feel like he has to make his life harder to make others lives easier. I never want my son to be used by people and think it is okay in the ways that I have. I want my son to be able to learn from us these mistakes and save the headaches we endured. While the idea of boundaries sounds complicated and the idea of setting them seems overwhelming, what surprised me most was how simple it started. Not easy—but simple. It looked like turning off my notifications and letting the message wait. It looked like choosing to stay home on a night I really needed stillness, even if someone else was disappointed. It looked like saying, “I can’t take that on right now,” without over-explaining or apologizing. Each small decision felt shaky at first. But over time, it started to feel like coming home to myself. In relationships, it meant choosing mutuality over one-sided effort. It meant stepping back from dynamics that left me feeling small, drained, or unseen. And it meant trusting that the people meant for me would not require me to shrink to keep their love. In rest, it meant letting myself pause—without guilt. That one was especially hard. Because somewhere along the way, I picked up the belief that rest had to be earned. That if I wasn’t constantly doing, I was somehow failing. I’m unlearning that now I’m remembering that I can rest just because I need to. Just because I’m human. And that’s really the heart of it: boundaries remind me I’m human. They bring me back to the truth that I can’t do it all, be it all, or give it all—at least not without slowly losing myself in the process. I’m still learning. I still have moments where I over-explain my no, or second-guess a decision I made to protect my peace. But I’m trying to meet those moments with grace. Because this isn’t about perfection—it’s about practice. And every time I honor my limits with honesty and compassion, I get a little closer to the kind of life I actually want to live. So if you’re navigating this too—learning to draw lines, speak up, or pull back—I want you to know you’re not alone . It takes courage to choose yourself in a world that rewards over-functioning. But you deserve a life that includes you in it. Fully. Tenderly. Without apology. Boundaries aren’t about building walls. They’re about creating spaces where you can thrive. Where love can exist without depletion. Where rest isn’t a luxury, but a rhythm. You are allowed to protect your peace. You are allowed to take up space. And you are allowed to be both kind and clear. That’s not selfish. That’s wholeness. Love you more, Morgan Check This Out Corner: Encanto. This movie is not only incredible visually and musically but the song Surface Pressure made me cry the first time I watched it.

There's a song going viral right now on TikTok by the artist Jenna Raine. The song called “Who Am I” has lyrics that state “The girl I used to be in 2017 Honestly, I hardly recognize.” Although the trend is lighthearted and usually just two pictures mostly highlighting physical changes, the trend hit me deep and hard like a Mack Truck. In 2017 : I was escaping my abuser, forced to step away from school, leaving a baby in a bad situation I had loved for her whole life because I had no rights to her, and truly thinking that it could never get better. In 2025: I am married to the love of my life, in my third trimester with my miracle baby, and living a life I never thought I of all people could be lucky enough to live. I used to think growth would feel like fireworks. A grand "aha!" moment followed by clarity and purpose. But more often than not, it feels like confusion. Doubt. Small steps. Getting it wrong. Then getting it a little less wrong. Then realizing you’re already somewhere new—and you didn’t even notice the moment you crossed over. Change—whether it’s a new season of life, a shift in relationships, or the slow unraveling of plans we thought were certain—has a way of shaking us . Sometimes it feels like loss . Other times, it feels like freedom . But most of the time? It just feels uncomfortable. There was a time when the thought of change made me feel like I was standing at the edge of a cliff. Unsteady. Unsure. And absolutely not ready to jump . Honestly, even after all the changes that I have experienced I still wouldn't say that I have ever become “ready” to jump. It's not as much about the “being ready” as it is about doing it anyway. What I’ve come to learn is that discomfort isn’t a sign that something is wrong. It’s often a sign that something is growing. We tend to hold on tightly to what’s familiar . Even when it no longer serves us. Even when it quietly drains our joy. Why? Because we confuse comfort with safety. And to our nervous systems, safety is everything. But comfort zones can be cages. Soft, cozy, padded ones—but cages nonetheless. The hardest part of change is not the change itself. It’s the releasing of what we thought we needed. I've had to let go of versions of myself that once made perfect sense—habits, routines, even people. And in doing so, I realized: we can grieve the past and still look forward to what’s next. Those things are not mutually exclusive. Most of the time change will happen even if we resist it. Resisting just makes the inevitable much harder. I think that this has become very evident to me recently while being pregnant with my first child. Although there are some things that stay the same, most of the things in my life have been changing, myself and body included. It feels very much like the montage in Toy Story when “Strange Things” plays and Woody glances around at Andy’s Room and all the changes that have been happening. No matter how much you would like to fight it, sometimes you just know it will be fruitless. Like expecting your stomach not to grow and your boobs not to get bigger, good luck with that . It's going to happen if you fight it or not. But it has been so gradual that each day I feel the same, until I look back and I realize just how much has happened. Not just with pregnancy, but with life. Bringing a child that you have always dreamed of into the world makes you realize just how much time in your life is behind you. Change doesn’t always announce itself with bold signs. Sometimes, it whispers: You’re not who you were a year ago. And that’s a quiet kind of victory. Let me just say: I see you. And I know how hard it is to keep moving when the path isn’t clear. But keep moving anyway. You are not meant to stay the same. And that’s not a threat—it’s a gift. Growth isn’t about becoming someone new. It’s about remembering who you were all along, beneath the fear . So here’s to change—the scary, sacred, slow kind. May we learn to meet it not with resistance, but with curiosity. Love You More, Morgan Check This Out Corner: Toy Story. If you haven’t seen it, where is the rock you live under? Not only is it great at highlighting changes and overcoming hardships (not limited to Space Ranger challenges) but it is totally Andy Vixen approved (If you KNOW you know.)
Meet:
The Modest Home
The judgment free organization service that meets you where you are.
THANK YOU FOR VISITING THE MODEST JOURNAL
We have been visited from:
Canada | Ireland | Russia | Ukraine |
---|---|---|---|
China | Israel | Spain | United Kingdom |
France | India | Singapore | United States |
Indonesia | Romania | Turkey | Venezuela |
In Case No One Has Told You Today
You matter so much
You are always worthy
You can do hard things
I am grateful for you