What I Wish I'd Known Before I Started Taking Care of Myself
Inspired by conversations with guests who've moved from survival through the Sanctuary to thriving
For a long time, "taking care of myself" was the thing at the bottom of the list, right under everyone and everything else that needed me first. I told myself it was temporary. Just get through this season, this project, this year, and then I'd get around to it. Looking back, here's what I wish someone had told me sooner.
It Doesn't Need to Be a Big Gesture
I used to think rest was something you earned after everything else was handled. But everything else is never fully handled — there's always one more thing. Waiting for the "right time" meant I was always waiting.
What actually changed things wasn't finding more time. It was realizing that taking care of myself wasn't a reward for finishing. It was part of what let me keep going at all.
I thought self-care meant something dramatic, like a retreat, a total lifestyle overhaul, or a version of myself with an hour to spare every morning that simply didn't exist. What actually worked was smaller. A single session that gave my body permission to downshift. Five quiet minutes before the day got loud. It didn't need to be impressive. It just needed to be real, and it needed to happen. Then, each month, I built a larger space into my calendar to go deeper. That's when I found the Sanctuary.
I didn't realize how much I was carrying until I finally sat still long enough to feel it. Not in some big dramatic moment, just sitting in the school pickup line, hands still gripping the wheel a full minute after I'd already parked. The tension in my shoulders that had been there so long I'd stopped registering it as tension at all. The way my breath had gotten shallow without me noticing. The fact that I couldn't remember the last time I felt calm instead of just coping.
Nobody tells you that "fine" can quietly become your new normal, or how much relief there is in realizing you don't have to stay there.
For a long time, I thought needing help — a guided session, a space built for exactly this, someone else holding the space so I didn't have to — meant I couldn't handle things on my own. It's actually quite the opposite. The people who seem to handle everything well are usually the ones who let themselves be supported somewhere.
Walking into the Sanctuary for the first time, I didn't fully understand what I needed. I just knew I needed something. That was enough to start.
If I Could Go Back
I'd tell myself: you don't have to wait until you're depleted to deserve rest. You don't need a crisis as permission. Five minutes today is enough of a beginning.
If any part of this sounds familiar, we'd love to have you start wherever you are — whether that's a single visit to try something new, or a small practice you can do at home today.
Curious where to begin? We'd love to welcome you into the Sanctuary.