Monday Motivation: Learning Me Without Pretending it's Easy

Sometimes I know exactly what I like.

Other times? No clue. Not even a hint.

And sometimes—let’s be honest—I people-please my way straight into doing things I don’t even enjoy, simply because I think it’s what’s expected of me. Turns out self-discovery is not about becoming who other people want you to be. WHO KNEW. (Insert dramatic eye roll here.)

Time and again, I’ve made plans to “find myself.” Big plans. Meaningful plans. Pinterest-worthy plans.And time and again, I’ve let them slide quietly into the background. Something always gets in the way. Usually me. I let myself dig into the familiar comfort of negativity and cling to it instead of sorting it out and continuing forward on whatever path I was trying to walk at the time.

So. I’ll try again. Because apparently that’s what growth looks like—starting over, repeatedly, with slightly more self-awareness each time.

When I lost Dakota, I lost an extraordinary piece of myself. For a long while, I didn’t want to matter—not to anyone, but especially not to me. It’s incredibly easy to feel like a failure and let that belief seep into every thought. And for a time, I didn’t grow at all. I existed in a personal winter—stagnant, frozen, waiting for the ice to melt.

Eventually, it did.Healing began. I was moving forward. I was doing better.

And then… winter came back.

Not dramatic winter. Quiet winter. The kind where everything just stops. No growth. Constant exhaustion. Sadness that never really lifts. Misery that hums in the background. A complete lack of passion or desire—for hobbies, for goals, for momentum… even for life itself. Not suicidal. Just profoundly uninterested in participating.

During that time, I was working with a counsellor using IFS, and it genuinely helped me understand myself on a deeper level. I felt lighter. More grounded. More like a person again. Then my therapist had to move on, and I was placed back on the waitlist. I told myself I was fine. Spoiler alert: I wasn’t.

Eventually, I noticed the struggle creeping back in. I asked my husband if he saw it too, and he gently confirmed that yes—he had noticed. He just hadn’t known how to bring it up without risking offense or emotional fallout. Fair. It’s a tricky conversation.

I’m still on the waitlist. But here’s the thing—I’m not without tools.

Giving up and letting misery settle in like an unwanted houseguest is not what I need. Not for me. Not for the people around me. So once again, we begin.

Me. Myself. And I.Back on the journey of learning each other—what we like, what we need, what we want, and what we still dream about (even if those dreams are currently buried under exhaustion and sarcasm).

This month—and going forward—I’m choosing to focus on self-discovery. Not perfection. Not hustle. Just showing up as the best version of me that I can manage on any given day.

Here are a few things I’m leaning into as I go:

• Taking risks and trying new things (even when it’s uncomfortable)

• Paying attention to what excites me—because I genuinely want to know what brings me joy

• Understanding my strengths and actually using them

• Journaling so I can reflect instead of ruminate

• Surrounding myself with people who support growth, not guilt

• Learning from mistakes instead of setting up permanent camp in them

• Reconnecting with my inner child (she deserves better)

• Staying curious and asking questions—I do love learning

• Building habits that support growth instead of burnout

• Practicing positive self-talk and rewarding wins (and no, rewards don’t have to cost money)

  
  

This isn’t about reinventing myself.It’s about finally getting to know myself—without judgment, without pressure, and without pretending I have it all figured out.

And honestly? That feels like a pretty bold step forward.