Fresh out of university, I thought I’d just slide into life like, “Okay cool, next phase.” But nope.
It felt like I got hit with a truckload of change all at once. My job was up in the air, and that alone was draining me.
On top of that, I had just moved to a new place—starting fresh in every sense, with a new neighborhood and no familiar faces around.
Then, there was the shift in my relationship. My partner and I had moved in together, which came with its own set of challenges.
To top it all off, I was trying to launch a side project, but every time I thought I was making progress, something else would come up, making it harder to focus.
It felt like I was juggling a million things, and none of them felt stable.
At first, I didn’t even realize what was happening. I was just existing. Moving from one thing to the next.
Then boom—anxiety, exhaustion, depressive episodes. I stopped taking care of myself. I was just tired all the time, mentally, physically, emotionally.
And the wild part?
My partner was going through it too.
We were both just surviving, thinking, “Yeah, this is fine. Just a rough patch.”
Fast forward a year later. We’re talking about how messed up last year was, and it finally clicks. Holy sh*t, we were NOT okay.
That’s when I remembered something I had read before—even good change can stress your body out. And it wasn’t just one change. It was too many, too fast, all at once.
My body was basically like, “Nah, I’m out,” and started throwing every stress response at me. And I just went through it without realizing what was happening.
So how did I pull myself out?
Not by some magical epiphany. Not by suddenly “getting my life together.” It was messy, slow, and honestly? I still struggle. But here’s what helped:
1. Taking a Step Back (and Actually Thinking About My Life)
At some point, I had to stop and ask myself what the hell I was even doing.
What mattered?
What made me happy?
What was I holding onto that wasn’t serving me?
I didn’t have all the answers, but just asking the questions helped.
2. Letting Go of Control (And Focusing On What I Actually Could Control)
I hate this one, not gonna lie.
I like control.
I like knowing what’s next, planning, making sure everything goes right.
But guess what? Life doesn’t care.
And my partner? He hammered this lesson into me until it finally stuck.
Over and over, reminding me, “You can’t control everything.” I fought it for a long time, but eventually, I stopped resisting. And damn, it made things so much easier.
But here’s the thing—letting go of control doesn’t mean giving up. It means learning to differentiate between what’s in your power and what isn’t.
So instead of spiraling over things I couldn’t change (other people’s actions, unexpected setbacks, the timing of things), I shifted my focus to what I could actually do:
⭓ How I reacted to situations
⭓ The effort I put into things
⭓My habits and routine
⭓The way I took care of myself
When I started focusing on what I could control and stopped wasting energy on what I couldn’t, everything started feeling lighter. Less overwhelming.
3. Actually Resting (Without Feeling Like a Failure for It)
Oof. This was hard.
Rest used to feel like laziness to me.
And honestly? I still struggle.
Even now, if I take a nap or just do nothing for a bit, there’s this little voice in my head going, “You should be doing something productive.”
I had to unlearn that. Rest is not a reward. It’s a need. Learning to give myself permission to chill without guilt was a game changer.
4. Finding Small Joys (Even When I Didn’t Feel Like It)
I don’t have a million hobbies, but I picked up the ones I used to love.
Started crocheting again, got back into watching movies.
Nothing fancy.
Just things that made me feel like me again.
And yeah, some days I still felt like crap. But forcing myself to do something fun, even when I didn’t want to, helped more than I expected.
5. Actually Accepting Support (Instead of Pretending I Was Fine)
I used to be that person who’s like, “I’ll handle it myself.” Like I had to figure everything out alone or I was weak or something.
Turns out, that’s bullsht*.
My partner was there for me the whole time, but I had to actually let myself lean on him. To stop pretending I had it together and just say, “Yeah, I’m struggling.” It made all the difference.
And I realized—letting people in isn’t weakness.
It’s strength.
It takes courage to be vulnerable, to say “I need help,” to let someone support you without feeling like you owe them something in return.
6. Lowering the Damn Bar (Because Perfection Is a Scam)
For so long, I felt like I needed to be on top of everything.
Like I was failing if I wasn’t adapting fast enough or doing all the right things.
But that pressure? Completely self-imposed.
I had to start giving myself grace. If things weren’t perfect, who cares? If I needed more time, that was fine. If my side project wasn’t taking off, so what?
Learning to be okay with progress over perfection changed the game.
Lessons & Takeaways (In Case You Need This Too)
If you’re going through a messy season of change, here’s what I’d tell you:
⭓ Pause and reflect. It’s easy to just keep pushing through, but take a second to ask: What actually matters to me? What do I want? What’s draining me?
⭓ Focus on what you can control. There’s so much you can’t change, but there’s also a lot you can. Shift your energy towards that.
⭓ Rest is not a reward. You do not need to "earn" rest. It’s necessary. Let yourself have it.
⭓ Find little joys. Even tiny things—hobbies, music, favorite foods—can make the weight feel lighter.
⭓ Let people in. You don’t have to do this alone. Asking for help is not weakness.
⭓ Lower the damn bar. Perfection is a myth, and the pressure to have it all together is unnecessary. Do your best, but don’t destroy yourself trying to meet impossible standards.
And most importantly—be kind to yourself. Change is hard, but you’re handling it better than you think.
0 Comments