This Is What Listening Looks Like
Listening used to mean powering through.
Ignoring the whispers.
Overriding my body.
Doing what I thought I should do —
not what I actually needed.
Now?
It looks a whole lot different.
Lately, I’ve been building a rhythm that feels less like fixing myself
and more like finally honoring myself.
I started incorporating supplements —
not just grabbing anything off a shelf,
but doing the research:
looking for the certifications,
figuring out the dosages,
choosing brands that actually support healing.
Because unfortunately, no one hands you a manual for this.
And that same day?
I gave up coffee.
Not because I had to —
but because I wanted to.
It didn’t align with how I want to feel anymore.
And the truth is,
I don’t even miss it.
And it didn’t give me what I needed anyway.
Now I start my mornings with electrolytes.
I love them.
And yes — I’m working on the whole peeing-every-twenty-minutes thing.
Turns out, I was drinking water, but I didn’t have enough minerals to hold onto it.
So instead of absorbing it, my body flushed it out — fast.
It wasn’t a flaw.
It was a signal.
My body was doing exactly what it’s supposed to do when sodium and potassium are off.
I’ve become that person in the grocery store —
scanning labels with the Yuka app,
listening for that loud beep
as I choose foods that are less packaged,
less processed,
and more supportive.
I still eat treats.
But I eat with more consciousness.
More clarity.
More care.
I hike in nature every day —
twice a day, sometimes three,
depending on the weather.
I do restorative yoga daily —
at home or in a class —
because my nervous system needs it.
It’s not about fitness.
It’s about coming back to myself.
I work remotely from my yoga room —
which basically means my mat stares at me all day,
silently judging my posture and life choices.
So when my body starts yelling,
I give in.
I roll off my chair,
land somewhere between a stretch and a prayer,
and call it healing.
I breathe.
I listen.
And if I’m lucky,
I don’t pull a hamstring.
I stand when my body wants to stand.
I don’t force yardwork when I’m already in pain.
I let myself rest —
and I don’t feel bad about it.
If I want to lie down and watch Netflix,
I do it.
Because sometimes rest is the most radical choice I can make.
This is what listening looks like now.
Not guilt.
Not shame.
Not pushing through.
Just... grace.
Do I get it right every day?
No.
I “failed” at intermittent fasting.
I haven’t built a workout routine.
I still have work to do.
But I’m not making myself wrong for what I haven’t done yet.
Because I’m finally paying attention to what I am doing now.
And that?
That’s the part that matters.
Because healing doesn’t always look like progress.
Sometimes it looks like presence.
And this —
this rhythm, this softness, this fierce return to self —
this is what listening looks like.
If any part of this feels familiar to you —
let this be your reminder:
You don’t have to push to be powerful.
You just have to listen.
With heart,
Rebecca
*FOR INFORMATIONAL PURPOSES ONLY. NOT MEDICAL ADVICE.
