The Impact of Toxic Energy in Our Lives

Many of us move through life absorbing far more than we realize—emotions, tensions, expectations—until the cost of that absorption makes itself known. What often follows is not one clear signal, but a slow accumulation. A sense of imbalance. A feeling of depletion that cannot be traced back to a single moment or event. Over time, the weight settles quietly, shaping how we think, feel, and show up in the world.

In reflecting on this, I have come to see a recurring dynamic at play: the impact of toxic energy in our lives, compounded by unmet personal needs. The two are deeply intertwined, each amplifying the other in ways that are not always immediately visible.

When the Glasses Begin to Overflow

Imagine, for a moment, that as human beings, both our needs and the unwanted elements we encounter are represented by glasses. Each glass fills according to what we experience. Now imagine that the glasses representing stressors, tension, and unwanted influences fill rapidly, while those meant to hold our needs—rest, nourishment, safety, meaning—remain nearly empty.

When this imbalance persists, it can feel as though our emotional, mental, and physical capacities are diminishing. But more often than not, it is not a lack of capacity—it is a lack of fuel. When our essential needs remain unmet, we simply do not have the energy required to empty the glasses that are overflowing with what drains us.

On Toxic Energy and What We Absorb

So what do we mean by “unwanted elements”?

Toxic energy often sits at the top of that list—alongside repeated exposure to people or environments whose values clash deeply with our own. This is not a call for intolerance. In both personal and professional spaces, meeting people where they are remains essential. Understanding someone’s background can offer profound insight—not only into who they are, but into ourselves as well.

And yet, some individuals seem to dwell in negativity, consciously or not. When exposure becomes frequent, those glasses of unwanted elements fill quickly. Stepping away may sound simple in theory, but relationships are rarely that clean. Distance can carry consequences, and complexity often keeps us engaged longer than we would like.

What Was Never Ours to Carry

A metaphor once shared with me has remained strikingly vivid. Imagine holding a glass of water—clear and pure. Suddenly, someone pours a large bag of dirt into it. The water becomes cloudy, disturbed. That murkiness is not of your making. And with time, the dirt settles.

You may feel like that troubled water—but you are not the dirt. You can scoop it out. You can pour the glass entirely and refill it with fresh water.

The image reminds us of something essential: we often carry emotions, tensions, and heaviness that were never ours to begin with. Other people’s words, behaviors, and emotional states have a real impact. While awareness alone does not resolve this, it restores agency. Even if action feels difficult when we are depleted, recognizing what does not belong to us is a powerful first step.

The Quiet Role of Unmet Needs

This is where unmet needs quietly enter the picture.

In a world that often rewards self-sacrifice, identifying and honoring our needs can feel uncomfortable—sometimes even selfish. Yet needs are not indulgences. They are foundational. Some are universal—sleep, nourishment, safety. Others are deeply personal. All of them matter.

When needs remain unspoken or unmet for too long, the glasses meant to sustain us stay empty. And without that replenishment, it becomes increasingly difficult to release what weighs us down.

Choosing What to Carry Forward

Prolonged exposure to toxic energy, combined with neglected needs, creates an unsustainable imbalance. Too many glasses overflow. Too few are refilled. Action feels heavy, if not impossible.

Perhaps the work is not to eliminate every source of strain, but to become more intentional about what we carry, what we release, and what we choose to replenish. In the end, the question may not be how much we can endure, but how deliberately we choose to restore ourselves in a world that constantly asks us to absorb.

Clarity, like water, returns when given the space to settle—one glass at a time.