Thriving without care is exploitation

In this culture, thriving is so often framed as the goal. But rarely do we pause to ask: how? And at what cost?

Too often, "thriving" gets framed as something shiny, impressive, and aspirational. It’s measured by productivity, status, or output. But what if that thriving is built on exhaustion? On invisibilized labor? On someone else’s suffering?

This is especially true in:

• In nonprofits and social justice orgs, where burnout is normalized in the name of "impact."
• In education, where “high achievement” often masks trauma, exhaustion, and survival.
• In wellness industries, where healing is sold as an individual product rather than a collective practice.

When thriving happens without care, reciprocity, rest, or relationship—it is not thriving at all, it’s exploitation. It’s another tool of capitalism, colonialism, and supremacy. It rewards those who keep pushing, and punishes those who dare to pause.

The usage of “thriving” thus becomes shallow and performative. It’s celebrating resilience without addressing the harm that made resilience necessary. It’s surviving under pressure, and being praised for doing so—while still being denied the care needed to truly rest, recover, and belong.

So what does it look like to thrive with care?

Thriving with care is spacious. It's paced. It’s rooted in interdependence. It doesn't ask us to prove our value—it assumes we already have it.

Thriving with care means:

• Taking rest seriously—not just as a tool for recovery, but as a right.
• Asking what support looks like before praising someone’s output.
• Building systems where care is embedded, not added on as an afterthought.
• Valuing slowness, ritual, and repair as much as results.
• Centering access, flexibility, and relationship rather than urgency and optics.

When care is part of the foundation, thriving becomes regenerative. It feeds more than just one person’s ego, brand, or bottom line. It nourishes the whole.

If we say we value justice, then care must be the soil in which thriving grows—not an afterthought. Not a reward we earn after we’ve proven our worth. But a foundational ingredient.

True thriving is collective. It is rooted in care—for self, for others, for the earth. It recognizes that how we get there matters as much as what we achieve. It measures success not only by growth, but by the well-being it generates. Care invites us to slow down, to look honestly at the stories we’ve internalized, and to reimagine what success can feel like.

This week, I invite you to reflect:

• Where in your life are you chasing “thriving” that actually feels extractive?
• What would it look like to pursue thriving that includes care—for yourself, others, and the earth?
• How might your definition of success shift if care was at the center?

Because if “thriving” requires extracting, it is not thriving. Liberation calls us to something deeper: a way of living where thriving and care are inseparable.