I had one of those moments recently where an old pattern showed up in a new disguise, wearing new clothes. I’d gotten excited about 2026. Excited about caring more deeply and consistently for my body, building strength, supporting mobility, really loving this body well. And in that enthusiasm, I went too much, too soon.
This time it showed up as too many floor push-ups my body didn’t yet have the capacity for. A week later, my left forearm and wrist let me know they’d been overwhelmed.
But what mattered most to me wasn’t the pain itself. It was the choice point that followed. I could feel the familiar pull toward self-judgment. You should know better. You’ve done this before. That’s part of the old pattern. Or I could try something different. I could actually pause and listen and love.
So I chose to listen. I did some tapping. I offered my forearm comfort through gentle heat and massage. Most importantly, I let my right arm carry a little more for a while. I allowed my left arm to rest and be supported, without shutting it down or making it wrong.
And something important landed. I actually am loving my body more deeply, just not in the way I first imagined. Sometimes love doesn’t look like doing more. Sometimes it looks like slowing down, softening, and letting the body teach us what support really means.
I noticed myself doing too much, and instead of judging, I chose to listen.
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