A reflection on work, self-worth and wellbeing, exploring how boundaries, integrity and meaningful contribution can change the value we place on ourselves.
When Work Comes Before Ourselves
We live in a society that quietly but persistently encourages us to put work before our own wellbeing. It’s woven into the fabric of modern life: the glorification of exhaustion, the badge of honour that comes with being “too busy,” and the underlying belief that our worth is tied to our productivity.
For many of us, especially those conditioned to prioritise the needs of others, saying yes to work that drains us becomes second nature. We tell ourselves it will pay off eventually, or that turning it down is a luxury we can’t afford.
By the end of the working week, I found myself needing to check in with my self-love tank.
I’d started my journey of putting myself first with genuine enthusiasm, but as life became busier, I noticed an old pattern quietly returning. I filled every available moment with work while gradually placing my own needs at the bottom of the list.
Ironically, the harder I worked, the less effective I became.
My energy was depleted.
It reminded me that valuing ourselves isn’t selfish. It’s often the very thing that allows us to show up more fully for the work we care about. I recognise now that this pattern isn’t just about burnout. Left unchecked, it becomes a quiet disconnect from the truest parts of ourselves.
The Price We Place on Ourselves
I’d been reflecting on what it really means to value myself.
For years, I’d underestimated my worth. Selling myself short didn’t simply affect my income; it slowly eroded my vitality, confidence and sense of self-worth.
I’ve come to see that the way we approach our work, and the compensation we accept for it, is often a direct reflection of the price we place on ourselves. When we quietly agree to be undercharged, over-deliver until we’re resentful, or stay in situations where our contribution isn’t valued, we’re telling the world, and more importantly ourselves, that what we offer is negotiable.
Reclaiming that value felt like an inside job. It meant sitting with an uncomfortable question: why was I willing to accept less than what my time and soul were worth?
Then I heard a fellow teacher answer a question about how he decided what to charge for his work.
His answer stayed with me.
A Different Way of Valuing Your Work
He explained that he began by looking at his essential living expenses: rent, travel, food and the costs of running his business.
Then he considered something many people forget.
What did he need in order to live well?
He thought about the things that nourished him, going to the cinema, taking dance classes, spending time doing what he loved, and making space for rest. He also considered how much time he wanted to protect for the parts of life that brought him joy.
Only then did he decide what he needed to charge.
I thought that was remarkable.
He wasn’t simply putting a price on his work.
He was honouring his time, protecting his wellbeing and recognising the value of what he offered the world.
It made me think about how rarely we’re taught to value work this way. We’re conditioned to measure it in purely financial terms, when the real exchange includes so much more: our creativity, our emotional bandwidth, our life experience, our physical health. A fair exchange isn’t just a number on an invoice, it’s compensation that lets you rest, replenish and thrive. When I think of value that way, energetic reciprocity rather than pure economics, it becomes much clearer which opportunities are actually aligned, and which ones are quietly draining me.
Earning with Integrity
Of course, this approach only has meaning when it’s grounded in integrity.
For me, that means remaining aligned with principles such as Satya (truthfulness), Asteya (non-stealing), Brahmacharya (self-restraint) and Aparigraha (non-grasping).
Valuing ourselves shouldn’t become an excuse for greed.
Neither should humility become an excuse for self-neglect.
Somewhere between those two lies integrity.
It takes courage to walk away from money that feels heavy or wrong, or to say no to a client who expects access to your energy at all hours. But every time I’ve drawn that line, it’s felt like an act of self-respect. My integrity was never for sale.
When work is approached this way, it stops being a desperate scramble for survival and becomes something closer to dharma, a natural extension of the purpose I’m here to live.
You Can’t Put a Price on Fulfilment
This remains one of the most inspiring perspectives on earning a living that I’ve encountered.
It also taught me something else.
If we truly need something, money is rarely the greatest obstacle.
More often, it’s our relationship with money, our relationship with our own worth, and our willingness to invest in the life we genuinely want to live.
Perhaps it’s time we honoured our deepest needs and desires, while also recognising the value of those who help us achieve them.
Financial security matters, of course. But when it comes at the cost of our health, our joy or our authentic expression, it starts to feel hollow. Fulfilment arrives when we honour the sacredness of our own energy and trust that valuing ourselves opens the door to opportunities that match that value.
The truest wealth I can imagine is a life where I don’t have to abandon myself in order to survive.
Because, in the end, you can’t put a price on fulfilment.
In self-worth and integrity,
Karmic Rebelle
Disrupt Karma. Restore Dharma.
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