We all want a good night’s sleep. But sometimes it’s just not happening.
A new medication gives you night sweats. The neighbor’s car alarm keeps going off. The kids want endless glasses of water. You’re worried something is wrong with the cat and she may need to go to the vet. Or you just can’t put your finger on why, but your brain won’t shut down.
On top of not being able to fall asleep, an annoying voice pipes up:
“Even if I fall asleep this very second, I’m going
A lot of my coaching clients come to our first session with a long list of abandoned self care goals and an inner critic who is pretty revved up about it.
Many of these strong, wise, highly-motivated people used a popular strategy for changing habits: setting highly specific, measurable goals.
Super detailed goals can be helpful for some behaviors for some people.
Many times, though, rigid goals set us up to fail.
In the real world, people have a hard time meeting
A friend and I were talking recently about something frustrating we've noticed in body image conversations. The more we make strides in body positivity (and don't get me wrong, we have a looooooong way to go), it seems it’s a bit easier to accept the softness of women's bellies, maybe even celebrate the loveliness of them, as long as they've had babies. Then we can appreciate the bellies for what they've accomplished and created. Admittedly, that's pretty incredible!
There was a time when I thought the number one most important thing that anyone needed to know about self care was how to get a good night's sleep. Later, I thought it might be exercise or stress management or deep breathing. I still think those things are important, but they are just things that you do to take care of yourself.
Compassion is the actual foundation of self care.
Once you can be compassionate with yourself through the full spectrum of your emotions, action
Don't forget to save your spot at the Self Care Day Retreat on May 7! Ever since I was little, my gap-free thighs have built friction when I walk that could set a fire. That friction has destroyed many beloved pairs of jeans.
Today, I said goodbye to two trusty pairs of pants that have worn threadbare in the inner thighs: black exercise pants and a pair of skinny jeans.
In the past, this would have sent me on a shame spiral that, yet again, my thighs betrayed me. My leg
When I was in middle school, I felt humiliated by my sensitivity for what seemed like the millionth time in my life, during a friend’s sleepover. My friend put a new action movie, The Fugitive, into the VHS player, and no more than 10 minutes in, onscreen violence sent my anxiety through the roof.
The other girls looked calm, while I desperately wanted to run from the room. But leaving might mean embarrassing myself or worrying someone else, so I stayed for the uncomfortab
I’m writing you this letter from my front step. It's an unusually warm February day and I'm wondering how I’d like to spend the rest of my afternoon, after I hit send. It’s my birthday, and I’m stepping out of work early and taking tomorrow off to enjoy the sunshine and be quiet with myself.
Maybe I’ll roll out my yoga mat on the lawn. Or I might curl up on the couch with my journal and a cup of tea. Or just sit outside and daydream.
These are not the kind of things that
Here’s something I wish I learned before I people-pleased, overworked, criticized, and overextended myself into burnout years ago:
You don’t have to earn self care.
Too often we put off our needs until we meet our unspoken requirements for worthiness. For many of us, productivity is one of the biggest requirements.
Before we deserve rest, boundaries, or nourishment, we bargain that we first have to accomplish, succeed, and give, give, give.
Oof. The marathon just t
Do you ever hear a term so many times that it starts to lose its meaning? “Self care” can be one of those terms. It’s so ever-present that it’s easy to overlook a key part: care.
We don’t always extend the care we give others to ourselves.
We listen to our friends’ worries, affirm their feelings, and remind them that we’ve got their backs no matter what.
Even though we scold the dog for peeing on the rug, we later remind him, “Awww, you’re such a good boy!”
Last month, my partner invited me to his work celebration of his recent publication. I joined Mark and his lab mates at an arcade on a Thursday night, with two goals in mind: celebrate Mark and find Whack-a-mole.
If you’re unfamiliar with Whack-a-mole, it’s an old, mechanical, tabletop game. You insert your token and pick up a heavily padded mallet. Your job is then to whack colorful plastic “moles” on the head as they pop out of the table. It’s immensely satisfying.