Tag: Soft Healing

  • The Truth Is, I Wasn’t Lazy—My Nervous System Was Tired

    The Truth Is, I Wasn’t Lazy—My Nervous System Was Tired

    For the longest time, I thought I was the problem.

    The version of me who couldn’t get out of bed some days.

    The one who started a project and abandoned it halfway through.

    The woman who kept telling herself, “You have so much potential, why can’t you just do the thing?

    I wasn’t lazy.

    I was tired.

    But not just physically tired—my nervous system was tired.

    And I didn’t know how to name that until I started healing for real.

    Nobody talks about what happens after survival mode ends.

    When your body finally has permission to pause.

    When the adrenaline fades.

    When the constant urgency quiets—

    And suddenly, you don’t know how to function without chaos driving the wheel.

    That’s not laziness.

    That’s your nervous system asking: “Can I finally rest now?

    I’ve learned that “not doing enough” is often just your body trying to protect you.

    And for women who have carried generations of pressure, perfectionism, and productivity—we don’t always know how to just be.

    We shame our slowness.

    We label our fatigue as failure.

    We call ourselves lazy when really…

    we’re just trying to feel safe for the first time.

    Here’s what nervous system exhaustion can look like (that you might mistake for laziness):

    Chronic procrastination (your brain is overloaded, not unmotivated)

    Forgetfulness or zoning out (that’s dissociation, not flakiness)

    Starting something, then freezing (a trauma response, not inconsistency)

    Struggling to complete simple tasks (because your energy is in survival, not thriving)

    Feeling “numb” when you used to be excited (that’s emotional depletion, not apathy)

    So how do we start honoring our nervous systems instead of shaming them?

    1. Replace judgment with curiosity.

    Instead of “What’s wrong with me?” try:

    What might my body be trying to say?

    2. Make rest part of the healing—not the reward.

    You don’t have to earn it. You need it.

    Daily. Not just after burnout.

    3. Start with micro moves.

    When you feel frozen, try the 2-minute rule.

    Two minutes of movement.

    Two minutes of breath.

    Two minutes of showing up for yourself—gently.

    4. Learn your own regulation tools.

    For some, that’s walking.

    For others, journaling. Or humming. Or crying. Or breathwork.

    Your body has wisdom. Let her lead.

    This is your reminder: You are not broken. You’re just healing.

    Healing is a full-body thing.

    It affects your energy. Your emotions. Your motivation.

    And yes, your capacity.

    You’re not behind.

    You’re not lazy.

    You’re learning how to feel safe again—without chaos, without pressure, without constantly proving your worth.

    So next time your body asks to slow down…

    Don’t call it lazy.

    Call it sacred.

    Call it nervous system wisdom.

  • Lessons from the Quiet Season

    Lessons from the Quiet Season

    No one really prepares you for the season when life goes quiet.

    You’re not spiraling, but you’re not soaring.

    You’re not broken, but you’re not blooming either.

    You’re just… here.

    In the space between what was and what’s coming.

    In the silence between prayers and answers.

    And at first, it’s peaceful.

    But then it gets uncomfortable.

    You start asking yourself: Am I missing something? Did I mess this up? Why isn’t anything happening?

    But I want you to know something:

    The quiet season isn’t a punishment. It’s a classroom.

    I’ve been in that season.

    When the plans stall. When the friends disappear.

    When the spark fades and the noise dims and you don’t know what to grab onto.

    And I remember thinking: God, did You forget about me?

    But He didn’t.

    He was just speaking in a language I hadn’t learned yet:

    stillness.

    Because in the quiet, everything echoes louder—your doubts, your desires, your truth.

    And if you listen closely, you’ll realize:

    The quiet doesn’t mean nothing’s happening. It means something sacred is.

    Here’s what the quiet season teaches you—if you let it:

    1. Who are you when no one’s clapping?

    When no one’s validating you. When there’s no audience, no applause, no obvious results.

    Can you still show up for yourself?

    2. Can you hear your own voice beneath the noise?

    The quiet strips away distractions.

    It asks you to tune back into you—your needs, your values, your spirit.

    3. Not everything that slows you down is a setback.

    Sometimes, it’s divine pacing.

    Sometimes, it’s protection disguised as a pause.

    So if you’re in the quiet season right now, try this:

    Create a “Stillness Practice.”

    Each morning or night, ask yourself: What do I need to hear today?

    Write down whatever comes up. It doesn’t have to make sense. Let your spirit speak.

    Start noticing what’s growing instead of what’s missing.

    Maybe your patience.

    Maybe your trust.

    Maybe your emotional capacity.

    Reframe the silence.

    Instead of “Nothing is happening,” try: “I’m being refined in ways I can’t see yet.

    There is something beautiful being built inside the silence.

    This season is not wasted.

    This season is not void.

    It is an altar. It is a cocoon.

    It is the quiet before your bloom.

    So breathe.

    Take the pressure off.

    And remember:

    Sometimes the most powerful things grow in silence first.