When You’re Not on the Other Side Yet

Dear Friend,

I thought I would be on the other side of this by now.

There’s a quiet kind of frustration in that.
A disappointment I haven’t often said out loud.

Because I’ve done the work.
I’ve felt the feelings.
I’ve made the brave decisions.

And still…

I find myself here.

In a season that is tender.
Longer than I expected.
Heavier than I hoped.

There are moments of grief.
Moments of exhaustion.
Moments where anger flickers in, not at anyone in particular, just at the length of it all.

How long does it take to heal?
How long does it take to feel like yourself again?

No one really gives you a clear answer.

So I’ve had to shift the question.

Instead of asking,
“When will I be through this?”

I’ve started asking,
“What would it look like to take good care of myself inside this?”

Because the truth is, I’ve had to lower my expectations in this season.

Not in a defeated way.
In an honest way.

I’m not here to accomplish.
I’m here to stabilize.

To regulate.
To listen.
To tend.

And some days, that feels like the bravest thing I do.

When I don’t know what I need, I ask myself something simple:

If my son were feeling like this… what would I do for him?

And the answer comes immediately.

I would slow everything down.
I would soften the environment.
I would offer warmth, comfort, reassurance.
I would not expect him to perform or produce or push through.

I would just… care for him.

So I’ve been learning to do the same for myself.

To mother myself.

And if I’m honest, that doesn’t come naturally.

There’s a reason this matters so much.

Because healing doesn’t happen in a rushed, dysregulated body.

It happens in safety.

In groundedness.

In the quiet moments where your nervous system finally believes it doesn’t have to brace anymore.

I keep coming back to this truth:

“If you refuse to heal your pain, you will subconsciously build a life from desperation rather than inspiration, and happiness will elude you.” -Cory Muscara

That lands differently when you’re in it.

Because it’s not about fixing yourself.

It’s about creating the conditions where healing is actually possible.

Where the life you’re building is chosen… not reacted into.

One of the biggest shifts I’ve made in this season is turning down the noise.

I deleted social media off my phone. Again.

Not as a grand statement.
Just as a quiet boundary.

And something surprising happened.

I could hear myself again.

My intuition got louder.
My body got clearer.
My needs became easier to recognize.

It didn’t solve anything.

I’m still in a tender season.

But it created space.

Space to notice what actually helps me.
Space to choose regulation over distraction.
Space to stop handing my energy to something that leaves me more depleted.

I’ve been going to bed earlier.

This month, I’m putting my phone away by 8:00pm.

Nothing revolutionary.

Nothing you haven’t heard before.

And yet…

These tiny choices feel like reclamation.

Because if I’m honest, these little devices we carry around all day?

They’re not neutral.

They pull us out of our bodies.
Out of our lives.
Out of our presence.

They rob us of peace.
Of clarity.
Of energy.
Of life force.

And in a season like this, I can’t afford that.

It’s okay to not be constantly up to date.

It’s actually healthy not to be.

We each have to find our own balance.

But here’s what I keep coming back to:

We’re all given the same 24 hours in a day.

And none of us know how many we get.

So how do I want to spend them?

Scrolling?
Numbing?
Dissociating?

Or living?

Even if living, right now, looks quiet.
Looks slow.
Looks like tending instead of thriving.

Because living in this modern world…
Parenting in this modern world…
Loving in this modern world…

It requires intention.

It requires choosing again and again what matters.

And it is absolutely worth it.

Because otherwise…

are we even here?

If you’re in a season like mine…

Where things feel tender.
Unfinished.
Lonely sometimes.

I want you to know this:

You’re not doing it wrong.

You’re just… in it.

And this part matters too.

There’s a line I read recently that hasn’t left me:

“I don’t think you ever deserved all of that pain, but my goodness what a loving life you’ve built in spite of it.” -@quotesbychristie

I sat with that for a while.

Because it’s easy to focus on what isn’t here yet.

What hasn’t resolved.
What still hurts.
What still feels uncertain.

But when I look a little closer…

There is so much love here.

In the way I show up.
In the way I care.
In the way I keep choosing something softer, truer, more aligned.

Even now.

Especially now.

So if you’re not on the other side yet…

Maybe the invitation isn’t to rush there.

Maybe it’s to meet yourself here.

With warmth.
With patience.
With care.

Like you would someone you love deeply.

With you in this tender becoming,

Adrian Hygge, FNP 🖤