07/22/2026
There was a season in early motherhood when I was trying so hard to be excellent at my job, come home and be a wonderful mother and wife, and stay on top of everything else too.
Most evenings, I got home late and still had three meals to think about: dinner, lunch for the next day, and breakfast we could grab as we rushed out the door.
There were always more things to do.
More things to keep track of.
More things I felt responsible for.
I believed that if I slowed down, everything might fall apart.
Eventually, things did begin to fall apart.
I remember sitting down with my husband and realizing, “We cannot keep living like this.”
Leaving my full-time job felt terrifying. When life became quieter, the space was almost uncomfortable. I had spent so long moving from one responsibility to the next that I didn’t know how to be when nothing urgent needed me.
But that space became the beginning of a different life.
God had been preparing people, resources, and avenues of healing that I hadn’t had room to receive.
A major shift came when I began listening to my body—recognizing what it had been holding and allowing some of it to release.
Little by little, I began relating to myself with more compassion and less pressure to prove that I was doing everything well.
My life today isn’t free of responsibility, but it is slower and much more peaceful. There is space for my family, my work, my creative projects—and for me.
Maybe you know the feeling that if you slow down, you’ll fall behind.
You may be carrying work, children, your home, and too many things to keep track of. You may not even have time to ask yourself what you want anymore.
Your body may be telling you it’s too much through tight shoulders, exhaustion, or a shorter fuse with your children.
Slowing down doesn’t necessarily mean changing your whole life.
Sometimes it begins with creating enough space to hear yourself again, notice what your body has been holding, and receive support instead of always holding everything together.
Maybe slowing down isn’t how you fall behind.
Maybe it’s how you become present for the life you’ve been working so hard to build.