Feeling Exhausted

A Note From Me, Now

I wrote the post below in 2015, during a season when I was a single mom with kids, running a full coaching practice, and trying to hold everything together while my body quietly fell apart.

At the time, I didn’t yet have the language or clinical understanding I have now. I hadn’t been diagnosed with Hashimoto’s. I didn’t understand the role of chronic stress, nervous system overload, or how deeply a woman’s body carries the emotional and logistical weight of her life.

What I did have was intuition — and a body that was asking me to slow down long before I was ready to listen.

I’m leaving this post here because it reflects the early truth of my work: the moment I stopped trying to push through exhaustion and started meeting myself with curiosity and compassion instead.

If you’re reading this now and recognizing yourself in these words, know this — there is more clarity, support, and understanding available today than there was for me back then. And you don’t have to figure it out alone.

I Was Tired.

That spring, I found myself completely exhausted — barely enough energy to take a shower. All I wanted to do was sleep.

I’ve always had sensitive adrenals, and that season brought some significant challenges that hit my body harder than usual. I was running a busy coaching practice, juggling endless kids’ activities, and carrying a lot of pressure to keep everything together. At times, I felt like a complete fraud.

I mean, I teach people how to love themselves, slow down, and listen to their bodies.

I had been so good at this in the years prior that I think I assumed I could let my own self-care slide a bit.

I was wrong.

Beating myself up wasn’t going to help, though. If I wanted to come out of that period with my peace of mind intact, I knew I had to start with curiosity and compassion instead of judgment.

Some difficult relationship dynamics were showing up — things I had been avoiding while running from one dance competition to the next. Intuitively, I knew they needed my attention. I also knew that if I didn’t slow down and deal with them, something bigger would eventually force me to stop.

So I listened.

That meant taking a weekend away to get quiet space. Quiet… until I got a text from my daughter saying she’d forgotten a dance costume and everything was falling apart because I wasn’t there.

And still, I knew: if I didn’t take that time, much bigger things than a missing costume were going to stop working.

Once I allowed myself to fully be in that space, I learned so much about why my body had been saying slow down. I uncovered old relationship patterns and stories I didn’t even realize I was carrying. That weekend marked the beginning of a much deeper practice of self-love and self-care — one that changed me.

After working through the emotional pieces, my body was still exhausted. The stress had taken its toll.

Here are a few things to consider when that happens.

1. Are your hormones and adrenals in balance?

And not just sex hormones — they’re only one piece of the picture. With the support of a qualified practitioner, it’s important to look at thyroid levels (a full panel, not just TSH), cortisol rhythm, and blood sugar regulation.

Before this experience, I truly believed I could “think my way” to feeling better. Mindset matters — but it’s only one piece. When your hormones or stress systems are out of balance, even the best intentions can feel like an uphill battle.

2. Are you doing too much and putting everyone else first?

We live in a culture that worships busy. Coffee and sugar become survival tools. Rest gets ignored.

For many women I work with, this comes from the belief that sacrificing ourselves is the right thing to do. But the truth is simple: if you’re laid up in bed, you’re not helping anyone.

You can’t give what you don’t have.

3. Are you getting quality sleep?

Yes, it sounds obvious — and it matters more than we think.
Dark rooms. Cool temperatures. No screens late at night. Support your body’s natural rhythm instead of fighting it.

4. Are you taking responsibility for other people’s feelings?

This one is big, especially for caregivers and healers.

Empathy is a gift — but carrying responsibility for other people’s emotional experiences is exhausting. Their feelings are their work. Managing your own is plenty.