You're Not Empathetic. You're Being Used.
- Vibrations

- Oct 20
- 9 min read

If you're always the one listening, fixing, holding space, and managing everyone's emotions while yours get dismissed as "too much," you're not empathetic. You're not kind. You're not a good friend, daughter, partner, or coworker.
You're being exploited.
And the fucked up part? They've convinced you that this is a virtue. That being the person everyone vents to makes you special. Your ability to absorb everyone's chaos without ever burdening them with your own is what makes you a good person.
But here's what's actually happening: Emotional labor is being extracted from you like a natural resource. And you've been so thoroughly trained to provide it that you can no longer recognize the extraction. You call it caring.
WHAT EMOTIONAL LABOR ACTUALLY IS
Emotional labor isn't just listening to your friend's breakup story. It's not just being supportive or showing up when someone needs you.
Emotional labor is the work of managing one's own and others' feelings, including those of the group and the room. It anticipates needs before they're expressed. It's reading the energy and adjusting yourself accordingly. It's absorbing someone's anger so they don't have to feel uncomfortable with it. It's soothing, mediating, translating, softening, managing.
It's remembering everyone's birthdays and checking in when someone seems off, asking the questions that make people feel seen and heard. Noticing what's unsaid and addressing it so no one else has to sit in awkward tension. Defusing conflict before it escalates. Making everyone comfortable even when you're not.
And here's the thing: None of this is bad. This is how we build connection, how we care for each other, how we create community. The problem isn't the labor itself. The problem is when it's one-sided. When you're doing all of it and getting none of it back, when it's expected from you but never reciprocated, when your needs get dismissed as demanding while everyone else's needs are treated as urgent.
That's not community but extraction.
HOW THE SCAM WORKS
They start by praising you for it. "You're such a good listener." "You're so easy to talk to." "You just get it, you know?" "I don't know what I'd do without you."
And it feels good. Because you've been taught that your worth comes from being needed, that being useful is how you earn love. That making yourself available is what makes you valuable.
So you do more of it. You become the person everyone calls when they're in crisis, the one who always has time, who always has the right words, who can handle anything.
And slowly, you stop having needs of your own. Or you learn to manage them quietly, privately, without burdening anyone else. Because you've seen what happens when you try to share, people get uncomfortable, change the subject, minimize what you're feeling, or make it about them somehow.
You learn that the role you've been cast in is listener, not speaker. Giver, not receiver. Manager of emotions, not haver of emotions.
THE PROOF IS IN WHO GETS TO HAVE BIG FEELINGS
Notice who gets to fall apart and who has to hold it together. Notice who gets to be messy and who has to be the stable one. Notice who gets to express anger, sadness, fear, overwhelm, and who gets told they're being dramatic when they express the same things.
Notice who gets comforted and who does the comforting. Who gets reassurance and who provides it. Who gets to be vulnerable without consequence, and who gets punished for showing vulnerability?
This isn't random. This is a hierarchy. And you're at the bottom of it, not because you're less important, but because the people above you have trained you to believe that serving them is what makes you essential.
WHAT THIS LOOKS LIKE IN YOUR ACTUAL LIFE
Your friend calls. She's upset. You drop everything. You listen for two hours. You validate, you empathize, you help her process. You don't mention that you're also going through something because she's clearly in crisis, and your thing can wait.
Except it's always a crisis. There's always something. And your thing keeps waiting.
When you finally do try to share, she listens for maybe ten minutes before redirecting the conversation back to her situation. Or she offers surface-level advice that makes it clear she didn't really hear you. Or she gets uncomfortable and changes the subject. And you let her. Because you don't want to make it weird. You don't want to be needy.
Your partner comes home stressed. You absorb it. You manage the mood. You ask the right questions, you create space for him to vent, you make him feel better. You do this every day.
But when you're stressed? When you need to process your day, your feelings, your overwhelm? He's tired. He had a long day. Can this wait? You're being intense. You're overthinking. Maybe you should journal about it.
Your message is clear: His emotions are legitimate and require your labor. Your feelings are inconvenient and require you to manage them on your own.
At work, you're the one mediating conflicts between coworkers. Reading the room in meetings. Managing your boss's mood. Ensuring everyone feels heard and smoothing over tension, translating what people really mean when they communicate poorly.
None of this is in your job description. None of this shows up in your performance review. But if you stopped doing it, everything would fall apart. And somehow that would also be your fault.
THE INVISIBLE SCORECARD
You're keeping score without realizing it. Every time you show up for someone and they don't show up for you. Every time you listen to their problems and yours never get airtime. Every time you accommodate their needs, your needs get dismissed.
You're noticing. Your body is tracking it even when your conscious mind is making excuses.
And the resentment builds. Slowly. Quietly. You don't want to be resentful—you want to be understanding. You want to be the bigger person. You want to believe that your people would show up for you if you really needed them.
But you're starting to suspect that you don't actually know if that's true. Because you never really need them. You manage your own shit. You don't ask for much. You make it easy.
And maybe that's the problem.
THE GASLIGHTING LANGUAGE THEY USE
When you finally name the imbalance, here's what they say:
"You're so sensitive." (Translation: Stop noticing that I don't reciprocate.)
"I didn't know you needed that." (Translation: I never asked because I benefited from not knowing.)
"You never said anything before." (Translation: I required you to request fundamental reciprocity that I should have offered freely, explicitly.)
"You're keeping score." (Translation: Please stop tracking that I'm not meeting you halfway.)
"I thought we were just being there for each other." (Translation: I thought you would keep being there for me without me having to be there for you.)
"You're making this transactional." (Translation: You're supposed to give freely while I take freely, and calling that out makes me uncomfortable.)
This is how they reframe your very reasonable expectation of reciprocity as a character flaw. You're not allowed to notice the imbalance. And if you do see, you're not allowed to name it without being painted as petty, demanding, or keeping score.
THE EMPATHY MYTH
You've been told your whole life that you're so empathetic. So emotionally intelligent. So good at reading people. But here's what nobody tells you: Empathy developed under duress isn't a gift. It's a survival skill.
You learned to read the room because you had to. You learned to manage other people's emotions because your safety or belonging depended on it. You learned to anticipate needs because failing to do so had consequences.
You're not naturally more empathetic than other people. You were trained. Conditioned. Rewarded for emotional labor and punished for having emotional needs. And now you can't turn it off. You're hypervigilant to everyone's emotional state. You're managing moods you didn't create. You're responsible for the harmony you shouldn't have to maintain alone.
This isn't empathy. This is hypervigilance. This is fawning. This is a nervous system stuck in a pattern of constantly scanning for danger and trying to regulate everyone else to keep yourself safe.
WHO BENEFITS FROM YOUR EXHAUSTION
Let's be specific about who profits when you provide endless emotional labor without reciprocity: The friend who uses you as a free therapist but is never available when you need support. The partner who wants you emotionally available for his needs but calls you dramatic when you express yours. The coworker who dumps their stress on you but never asks how you're doing. The family member who expects you to manage everyone's feelings but dismisses yours as overreactions. These people aren't bad. They're just comfortable. Comfortable with a dynamic where they get emotional support without having to provide it. Comfortable with you absorbing their chaos without creating any of your own. Comfortable with an arrangement where you do all the work and they reap all the benefits.
And why wouldn't they be comfortable? It costs them nothing. You're not complaining. You're not setting boundaries. You're not asking for reciprocity. You're just quietly keeping score and slowly burning out.
THE ASTROLOGY OF EMOTIONAL EXTRACTION
If we're looking at this through an astrological lens, this is what happens when your Cancer placements get weaponized, when your ability to nurture becomes an expectation, when your emotional availability becomes a resource to be mined. This is Pisces pathology, where one absorbs everyone's pain, dissolves boundaries, and martyrs oneself on the altar of other people's comfort, all while calling it compassion. This is Libra shadow keeping the peace at the expense of your own equilibrium and managing everyone's harmony while your own needs create discord that no one wants to address.
Your 7th house reveals where you've learned to abandon yourself in relationships, where partnership means you do the emotional work while the other person shows up. Where reciprocity is a fantasy and you've made peace with crumbs. Your 12th house reveals where your emotional labor has gone underground, where you're serving, sacrificing, dissolving your own needs into everyone else's, where you've made your exhaustion invisible. Hence, no one has to feel guilty about extracting from you. And every time you override your resentment, every time you make excuses for people who don't show up, every time you convince yourself that you don't really need support, you're reinforcing the pattern. You're teaching people that you're fine, that you can handle it. That they don't need to consider your capacity because you never seem to reach it.
WHAT RECIPROCITY ACTUALLY LOOKS LIKE
Reciprocity isn't transactional. It's not "I listened to you for an hour, so now you owe me an hour." Reciprocity is when both people's needs matter, when both people get to be messy, when both people do the work of showing up, holding space, and being present. Reciprocity is when you don't have to perform stability to deserve support. When your vulnerability isn't met with discomfort or dismissal. Asking for what you need doesn't make you high-maintenance. Reciprocity is when emotional labor is a shared responsibility, not your solo performance. But you can't get reciprocity from people who don't value it. You can't get mutual support from people who are comfortable with one-sided extraction. You can't teach someone to show up who has built their entire relational style around you, not requiring them to do so.
THE SHIFT THAT BREAKS THE PATTERN
The shift happens when you stop making yourself so available that no one has to earn your time. When you stop absorbing everyone's chaos and start letting people sit with their own discomfort. When you stop being the person who fixes everything and start being the person who has needs too, this means letting people be disappointed and letting the silence sit when they dump their stress and don't ask how you're doing. Saying "I don't have capacity for this right now" and not cushioning it with explanations and sharing your struggles even when it makes people uncomfortable.
This means being aware of who actually shows up when you're not constantly available. Who asks how you are and waits for the real answer. Who makes space for your mess without making it about them? Who reciprocates effort without needing to be taught.
And accepting that most people won't. Most people have grown accustomed to you doing all the work. And when you stop, they won't suddenly start. They'll find someone else to extract from.
PERMISSION TO STOP MANAGING EVERYONE
You're allowed to stop being everyone's emotional support system. You're allowed to have needs that require other people's labor. You're allowed to be messy, vulnerable, and in need of support without having to earn it first through endless service.
You're allowed to let people handle their own feelings. You're allowed to stop mediating, translating, and managing on behalf of people who are fully capable of doing it themselves. You're allowed to say "I can't hold this right now" without guilt. You're allowed to expect reciprocity. And when you don't get it, you're allowed to stop giving.
The people who love you for what you do aren't the same people who love you for who you are. And you get to decide which kind of love you're willing to accept.
The version of you that everyone needs might be the one that is endlessly available. The one who always has space. The one who never has her own crisis.
But the version of you that gets to be whole is the one who stops managing everyone else's emotional reality and starts honoring her own.
You're not empathetic. You're exhausted.
And you're allowed to stop.
If this hit you in the chest, it's because you're finally recognizing that emotional labor extraction isn't love; it's exploitation dressed up as friendship.
I expose the patterns hiding in one-sided relationships across platforms:
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And if you're ready to stop absorbing everyone's chaos while your needs get dismissed? I do readings that reveal where you've been conditioned to provide endless emotional labor without reciprocity and where you get permission to stop.
No "just communicate better" scripts that put the burden back on you. Just astrology as a tool for recognizing extraction patterns and trusting that real relationships don't require you to abandon yourself.
Book a reading: vibrationsbytash.com
Because the version of you that gets free isn't the one who perfected being everyone's emotional support system, it's the one who started having needs too.






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