Learning to Nurture Myself

I started a weekly practice of writing down my goals and assigning them to specific days. At first, it was simply a way to keep my new coaching business moving forward. Anyone who has started a business or taken on a big project knows how easy it is to become overwhelmed without some sort of plan. Thankfully, those years in corporate America taught me a thing or two about organization.

What I didn't expect was that my planner would begin teaching me something about myself.

One of the reasons I decided to start my own coaching practice was to create a life with more intention. I wanted the freedom to decide how I spent my time and to make room for the things that mattered most, including taking better care of myself.

As I looked back over my weekly plans, I noticed a pattern.

For months, I've been asking myself why it's been so hard to find the same excitement for working out that I used to have. I've actually been more consistent recently, but something felt different. The internal drive that used to push me to never miss a workout, to chase bigger goals, to "go hard," just wasn't there anymore.

At first, I thought it was about fitness.

It wasn't.

As I looked through my weekly goals, I realized the resistance wasn't limited to the gym. It showed up almost everywhere I was supposed to be caring for myself.

Taking my vitamins.

Meditating.

Doing my physical therapy (thanks, cranky knee).

My nightly skincare routine.

Cooking for myself now that my son has moved out.

Meanwhile, the business tasks were easy to complete. Returning emails and calls. Setting up another system. Working on my website. Those things rarely felt difficult.

That's when it hit me.

It wasn't exercise I was resisting.

It was nurturing myself.

The things I do that benefit other people have almost always come naturally to me. Showing up for others has never required much convincing. But the things that exist solely because they are good for me? Those are somehow harder.

I've been sitting with that realization ever since.

Then another thought surfaced.

Maybe it isn't just that I've changed. Maybe my motivation has changed too.

There was a time when the gym was my escape. It was the place I went to quiet my mind, regain a sense of control, and create a little peace when life felt overwhelming. It served an important purpose during that season of my life.

But I don't need it in the same way anymore.

I'm not trying to lose weight. I'm not chasing a bodybuilding goal. And perhaps most importantly, I'm no longer living a life that I feel the need to escape from.

For so much of my life, my motivation came from somewhere outside of me. Responsibility. Achievement. Fear. Survival. Even helping other people.

Those things served me well. They helped me build a successful career, overcome difficult seasons, and become the person I am today.

But they don't seem to be fueling this next chapter.

Instead of asking why I'm not more disciplined, I'm beginning to wonder if I'm asking the wrong question.

Maybe this season isn't about learning how to keep pushing harder.

Maybe it's about learning how to care for myself with the same consistency I've always cared for everyone else.

Maybe it's about discovering what motivates us when fear, survival, and proving ourselves are no longer in the driver's seat.

I don't have that answer yet.

But I think it's a question worth exploring.