I want to start this month’s blog by prefacing that this month’s blog is very personal, but in a way
that, if you stick around and read, can be deeply transformative. I remember about two months
ago, the day after I defended my dissertation and became “Dr. Simpson,” someone asked me,
“Now that you’re done and have all this free time, you can start taking on more work now, right?”
At face value, the question made perfect sense. I had completed one of the hardest
accomplishments of my life, and on paper, I did have more “free time.” The math was
“mathing”. Yet, I immediately felt frustrated. It took me several days to process why something
that made perfect sense triggered such strong adverse reactions. It wasn’t until I had a moment
of stillness that I realized I hadn’t simply finished a dissertation; I had completed ten consecutive
years of school. Those ten years weren’t just lectures, papers, and deadlines. They also held
grief, loss, changing relationships, hobbies that faded, and countless moments where life kept
happening while I kept saying, “I’ll process it later.” What I needed wasn’t another opportunity to
prove myself. My mind and body were asking for permission to breathe, process, and reflect.
That experience reminded me of something I often explore with clients on how intentional
wellness is not simply about adding more self-care practices to an already full life. Sometimes
the healthiest thing we can do is resist the pressure to replace one form of exhaustion with
another immediately. As therapists, we often see how people become attached not only to
relationships but to being needed, productive, available, or dependable because somewhere
along the way those things became connected to love, acceptance, or safety. From an
attachment perspective, constantly saying “yes” can become a survival strategy. Over time, our
nervous systems stop recognizing rest as safety and instead associate constant accessibility
with security and acceptance. This is why healing often feels uncomfortable.
Healing changes what your nervous system is willing to tolerate, while internally craving the
desire to say “No”. In our attempt to become more emotionally secure, we become less willing
to sacrifice our peace for performance or confuse depletion with love. One of the most
overlooked truths about healing is that sometimes the more you heal, the more you say “no.”
That “no” isn’t rooted in selfishness; it’s rooted in discernment of what the internal self
desperately needs. It reflects a growing understanding that our availability does not measure
our worth. Just because we have the time does not mean we have the emotional capacity, and
learning the difference is one of the most powerful wellness practices we can develop.
As I reflected on my own journey, I realized the healthiest part of me wasn’t resisting doing
more, it was resisting the belief that I had to prove my value immediately. Intentional wellness
invites us to ask a different question. Instead of asking, “What should I do next?” perhaps we
should first ask, “What has my mind and body been trying to tell me?” Sometimes healing
sounds like ambition, but other times it sounds like a boundary. It sounds like, “Not today.” It
sounds like, “I need to rest.” Because protecting your rest is not always avoiding responsibility, it
is protecting your humanity.
