The weight of it all: unlearning hustle
Our bodies have a way of communicating to us. They tell us how we’re feeling through breath, heart rate, hormones, and sleep. As I come up on a little over one year of being a small business owner, my body has been repeating one message loud and clear: Dreams are to be trusted, not pressured.
I dream big and I plan hard. Dreaming, for me, feels like art. There’s excitement, possibility, hope, and creativity. The future becomes a blank canvas. This part of me shows up in the therapy room when I help clients re-imagine their circumstances and nurture empowerment.
My belief that dreams are possible comes from many places - growing up as a 90s kid in America, from faith, and from being trained as a social worker. The story I learned was simple: with enough resources, discipline, planning, and a little prayer, you can do anything.
Then enters my planning part. It confidently claims, “Let’s do this.” I feel my nervous system calm when I see a color-coded calendar in a beautiful, clean font. Shout-out to all the planners - I see you.
The Dance Between Dreaming and Doing
The dreaming part and the planning part dance beautifully when a goal is clear. Dreams offer vision; plans offer movement. They both mean well and serve me in different ways. Big ideas need legs. They also need time — time to grow, fail, learn, evolve, and re-evolve.
This is the same truth I orient my clients toward, even six-year-olds when they begin therapy. Intellectually, I know growth isn’t linear. And yet, as therapists, we can’t escape our humanity. We project, we forget, we learn again.
When the Body Says Enough
The breakdown in my body and health over the past year revealed a disconnect between reality and expectations as I approached the starting line of building my business. I looked to my right and left, using others as the barometer for success. I became overwhelmed by the identity crisis of marketing a therapy practice in a world of algorithms and influencers.
And somewhere in all that noise, my body reminded me of the truth: I am a mom first and a therapist second. Those values can feel like they compete, but they’re both central to who I am. The tension between them often stirs worry, self-doubt, and pressure — the very weights that pull on my contentment, especially during seasons of transition.
Unlearning, On Repeat
As with most emotional patterns, this inner dynamic doesn’t only show up in work. I notice it in my relationships, my schedule, even in my parenting. I’m learning — on repeat — to redefine success and to let go.
Mindset and timing are everything when we consider change, growth, and healing. When our values drift undefined, floating in space, they can wreak havoc on our minds, bodies, spirits, and relationships. I don’t say that to alarm; I say it as both a therapist and a human still learning.
Small Pieces, Big Grounding
Good therapy offers a safe place to clarify what matters most. It provides a compass of compassion and connects all the parts of us — judgment-free.
I haven’t arrived. Writing this is part of the process. It’s one small tile in the larger mosaic of unlearning. There are a million ways I could say what I’m saying — and I’m choosing these words, in this way, today. That is expression. That is art. That is therapy.
