CwC - I Lowered the Bar and the Bare Minimum Was Enough

This is a companion post to “Survival Mode Taught Me Things Self-Help Never Did”.
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There’s a strange shame attached to doing the bare minimum. We’re taught that effort only counts if it’s visible, impressive, or exhausting. That survival doesn’t count unless it looks like growth. That if you’re not thriving, you’re failing. So when all you can manage is the bare minimum, you assume you’ve come up short. But sometimes the bare minimum is heroic.

The Bare Minimum Keeps You Alive
Bare minimum doesn’t mean careless. It means strategic. It means getting out of bed when staying in it feels safer. It means feeding yourself something simple instead of nothing at all. It means replying to one message, taking one shower, doing one thing that keeps the day from tipping over completely. Self-help loves to talk about doing more. Survival teaches you when to do less. The bare minimum isn’t laziness—it’s restraint. It’s choosing sustainability over collapse.

Progress Doesn’t Always Look Like Improvement
Progress is often quiet, repetitive, and unimpressive. It’s showing up again after yesterday already took everything you had. It’s holding the line instead of pushing forward. It’s not backsliding when chaos would be easier. No one applauds this kind of progress. There’s no before-and-after photo. No dramatic turning point. Just the slow, stubborn act of continuing. And that counts.

You Don’t Owe Anyone a Better Version of You
The pressure to 'bounce back' is exhausting. People want your recovery to be inspiring. They want lessons. They want visible growth. They want proof that the hard thing paid off. But you don’t owe anyone a transformation arc. You’re allowed to stabilize instead of evolve. To rest instead of rise. To exist without turning your pain into a personality or a motivational speech. Survival isn’t a phase you have to justify.

The Bare Minimum Is Contextual
What looks like 'not much' from the outside can be everything on the inside. The bare minimum shifts depending on the season you’re in. Some days it’s doing the dishes. Some days it’s not crying in public. Some days it’s choosing not to text the person who keeps reopening the wound. You don’t measure effort by output when your system is overloaded. You measure it by impact. Did it keep you steady? Did it protect your energy? Did it get you through the day? Then it was enough.

Why Doing Less Sometimes Saves You
There’s a point where pushing harder doesn’t build resilience—it breaks it. The bare minimum gives your nervous system room to recover. It keeps you from burning bridges with your body, your mind, and your life. It creates space for stability to return without forcing it. Self-help glorifies expansion. Survival depends on containment. You don’t need to stretch when you’re already at your limit.

One Day, You’ll Do More—and It’ll Be Because You Can
This isn’t forever. There will be a day when the bare minimum naturally grows into something bigger. Not because you forced it, but because you finally have the capacity. You’ll do more because you’re ready—not because you’re ashamed of doing less. And when that day comes, you won’t look back at this season with embarrassment. You’ll look back with gratitude.

Because the bare minimum didn’t fail you.
It held you together.

love, kate

A little bit of humor: Bare minimum, still undefeated. Lowered the bar and tripped over it on purpose. I gave 30% and that was generous.