You Cannot Pour From an Empty Cup and Why Self-Advocacy is Essential for Every Social Worker
- Brainz Magazine
- Aug 23
- 4 min read
Kiran Reddy is a psychologist, social worker, speaker, and artist. Founder of ESPOIR, he blends mental health advocacy with creativity. With global affiliations like UNICEF & UNV, he empowers youth through counselling, public speaking, and community leadership.
Social workers dedicate their lives to supporting others, yet too often neglect their own well-being. This article explores the hidden cost of self-neglect in social work and why self-advocacy is not selfish but essential. Through personal lessons, practical strategies, and inspiring insights, it shows how protecting your own health ultimately strengthens the care you give to others.
There is a line I often repeat when I mentor young social workers:
“The world needs your compassion, but it also needs your courage to protect yourself.”
When you work in social services, psychology, or advocacy, it’s so easy to give endlessly. We stand for children, for youth, for families, sometimes for entire communities that carry wounds bigger than any one person can hold. And in doing so, we forget the most fundamental truth: we are human too.
I know this because I lived it. I’ve been the one staying awake at 3 a.m. to finish reports after a long day. I’ve been the one smiling in front of 25,000 students at the University of Portsmouth as their Student Union Chairperson, while quietly battling my own exhaustion. I’ve been the one holding the hand of a young person during a crisis, whispering, “You are not alone,” while secretly wondering when I would have the strength to whisper the same words to myself.
First things first: You don’t need to break to prove you care
Growing up, I was taught that hard work and sacrifice were the ultimate signs of dedication. For a long time, I believed that in social work, “burning out” was almost a badge of honor. If I was tired, overcommitted, and drained, it meant I was doing enough.
But here’s what I eventually learned, through failures, tears, and long nights of self-reflection: sacrifice without self-preservation is not noble, it is destructive.
When I founded ESPOIR, my vision was to create a safe space where young people could feel seen, heard, and valued. But very quickly, I realized that if I didn’t advocate for myself, my time, my boundaries, my mental health, then ESPOIR itself would not survive. That was the turning point: recognizing that advocacy doesn’t stop with the people we serve, it must also include ourselves.
The hidden cost of neglect
Self-neglect in our field doesn’t always shout. Sometimes, it whispers:
Saying “yes” to one more case when your plate is already overflowing.
Skipping meals or therapy because “someone else’s pain is greater.”
Smiling at events while silently carrying secondary trauma.
Avoiding honest conversations with supervisors because of guilt or fear.
During my early career as a child psychologist, I once pushed through weeks without proper rest because I didn’t want to “let anyone down.” I ended up collapsing emotionally, and I realized then that my silence was not helping anyone. By not speaking up, by not protecting myself, I was slowly losing the very empathy I needed to do my job well.
That’s the cruel irony: when we forget to advocate for ourselves, the very people we want to help eventually suffer too.
Practicing self-advocacy: Lessons from my journey
So, how do we do this? How do we stand for ourselves while standing for others? Here are lessons I carry with me:
Your story matters. I often tell my clients, “Every wound tells a story, and every story deserves respect.” That includes your story. Don’t minimize your struggles just because you’re the helper.
Boundaries are bridges, not walls. Early on, I feared boundaries would create distance. But I’ve learned they actually build trust. When I told my team at ESPOIR, “I need Sundays completely off for my mental health,” they respected me more, not less.
Clarity beats guilt. At Portsmouth, I once said in a meeting, “I cannot take on another initiative right now without compromising existing commitments.” To my surprise, people didn’t see me as weak; they saw me as wise.
Art as advocacy. Sketching, painting, and writing aren’t hobbies for me; they’re lifelines. My book Shadows of Solitude was born from nights when words were the only way I could advocate for myself. Creativity has been my voice when I couldn’t speak aloud.
Community saves. When I leaned on mentors, colleagues, and even my fellow Rotarians, I realized that advocacy is not a solo act. Asking for help is not a weakness; it is solidarity.
Building a strategy for your own well-being
When we create care plans for clients, we start with goals. Why not do the same for ourselves?
In six months, where do I want my well-being to be?
What boundaries do I need to honor daily?
Who are the allies who can remind me to rest, eat, breathe, and live?
For me, my strategy includes journaling every night, keeping art visible in my workspace, and reminding myself of one simple mantra:
“I am not just a social worker. I am a human being first.”
Advocacy is not selfish – it’s survival
Here’s the truth I want every social worker, psychologist, and advocate to carry with them: advocating for yourself does not take away from others; it multiplies what you can give.
I’ve seen too many brilliant, passionate people leave this field because they gave until they had nothing left. I don’t want that for you. The world needs your light, but it doesn’t need you to burn out to prove your worth.
So the next time you hesitate to set a boundary, remember this: your clients, your community, your loved ones, they don’t just need your work. They need you, whole, present, and alive.
Follow me on Instagram, LinkedIn, and visit this website to connect with our work at ESPOIR, where we stand for youth mental health, and also remind each other: advocacy must always begin within.
Read more from Kiran Reddy
Kiran Reddy is a leader in mental health, youth empowerment, and creative advocacy. With a background in psychology and fine arts, he blends science and creativity to support emotional well-being. He is the founder and CEO of ESPOIR, a platform for mental health and mentorship. Having worked with global bodies like UNICEF and UNESCO, Kiran is dedicated to inspiring change through counselling, leadership, and public speaking. His mission: Empower minds, elevate lives.
