The conversation that changed things

A post-birthday intervention, some hard truths, and what’s actually helping

A little over a month ago, just after my 42nd birthday, my mom said she needed to talk to me. I’m a catastrophizer by nature, one of those people who assumes every phone call is bad news. But she promised it wasn’t anything serious. “It’s about you,” she said, as if that would calm me down. She shared, very lovingly and as gently as possible, that she and my dad were worried about how I was taking care of myself. Or, in this case, how I wasn't taking care of myself. I hadn't been exercising. I had a growing list of physical ailments (including a stint in the ER over the holidays for a still-to-be-diagnosed issue), and despite knowing that nearly the entire side of my dad's family has Type 2 diabetes, my sugar intake and overall eating habits had never been worse. I needed to make a change.

I knew it. Of course, I knew it. But I felt stuck. I’d go to bed frustrated, making quiet, desperate promises to get it together, only to forget them the next morning while pouring maple syrup on something beige. But the conversation sparked something in me that I chose not to ignore. So, I started. I’m not running marathons or eating lentils with quiet reverence or anything. But I’m showing up for myself a little more.

I questioned whether I should even write about this, since it hasn't been that long, and who am I to offer any advice?! But if you’ve been feeling even a little bit the way I was (unmotivated, kind of blah, unsure where to start, etc.), I figured it was worth sharing what’s been helping in case it helps you, too.