Therapy isn’t what most people think. Here’s what my therapy journey actually looked like, what I learned, and how it changed my approach to mental health and balance.
A personal reflection on change, mental health, and why healing doesn’t come from starting over somewhere new.
I posted on social media this week about Soup Sundays at the Warren house. It is a near sacred practice here, and very much a part of living a balanced life.
What balanced eating actually looks like in real life. A simple 80/20 approach to healthy habits without restriction, guilt, or perfection.
A real-life dinner that balances nutrition, ease, and enjoyment
A simple 7-minute mindfulness practice you can use to reset your day, even when life feels busy.
I am living proof that people can, in fact, change.
My mom took seven days to die. She was in hospice, in a state they call "active dying" for seven days. My sisters and I would meet at her room and sit and talk and sit and work a little and sit and watch reality TV; all day, every day, as if it were our jobs. Then this saint of a hospice nurse would come in, tell us how she spent the last night with mom brushing her hair and telling her how pretty she was, and encourage us to go home and go to bed. "She's not going to die tonight," she'd say, "go home and get some rest." We'd give a collective sigh and head home. In the morning, before I'd head back to mom's room, I'd do a 60-minute bootcamp workout. 6o minutes every day, no matter how poorly I'd slept or how run down I felt. My normal workout routine includes exercise most days, but not a 60-minute boot camp; those are once per week at most because they are a beast. Shout out to Peloton's Jess Sims (IYKYK). I was sore, spent, kind of numb, but MAN did I need that morning routine every day. I needed the sense of accomplishment. I needed the rush of adrenaline, of pure presence and feeling. And I needed to take care of my body, because I'm on a mission not to have to suffer like my mom did. Not in hospice, but as she did in the last few years of her life, battling diabetes and cirrhosis. I recognize that I don't have full control over what happens to me. I have a slew of chronic diseases in my genes. But I'm going to try. My daily movement is a major piece of that fight. The rest is all this balance work. This is deeply personal to me, friends, deeply. October always picks at my grief wounds; my dad died at age 56 in late October, my mom died at 72 on the Day of the Dead, November 1st. They were both too young. And they both had suffered from some serious health issues, for basically as long as I can remember. After my dad died, that's what kicked my own wellness journey into high gear. I vowed to do everything I could to not let genetics win. I fight like hell so that I can be as active and alive and as vibrant as possible as long as I can. To be there for my family, my nieces, and my friends (so close they are family) as the healthiest, most balanced me. So in case you're wondering why I chose exercise over just about anything else. Why I will prioritize it over well, just about everything. Now you know. Movement not only helps my brain. It helps me feel like I'm in this fight. That I'm trying as hard as I possibly can to beat this bs. To be the very balanced and best version of me I can be—for them, for me, and to prove I can do this. And you know what? YOU can do this. Find your "why" and attach it to how you choose to balance your body (whether that's a run, a walk, or nutritious food). Make it personal. And then hit play on your version of that bootcamp whenever you need it.
Fresh Tomato Soup
The Perfect Chocolate Chip Cookie