I’m Still Learning to Take My Own Advice About Self-Care

Sometimes the reminders we give others are the ones we need to hear ourselves.

There’s something strangely vulnerable about being the person who reminds everyone else to rest… while secretly forgetting how to rest yourself.

And if I’m being completely real, I do this more often than I’d like to admit.

I spend so much time writing about self-care, mental health, healing, boundaries, and learning to be kinder to ourselves.

I create comforting reminders, write reflections, and make little pieces of art that I hope help someone feel less alone.

But here’s the funny thing.

Sometimes I’m the one who needs those reminders the most.

I’ll write about slowing down while juggling ten different creative projects.

I’ll remind people that productivity doesn’t determine their worth, then feel guilty for taking an afternoon off.

I’ll encourage others to set boundaries while struggling to say no myself.

I’ll tell someone they deserve kindness, patience, and rest while being my own harshest critic.

The irony isn’t lost on me.

And honestly, I think that’s part of being human.

Sometimes I Give Advice I’m Still Learning to Follow

There’s a thought I’ve been sitting with lately:

“Some days I give advice I still struggle to follow myself. Maybe healing works like that. Maybe we grow by reminding each other.”

That realization hit me harder than I expected.

Because I used to think that if I was going to talk about self-care and mental wellness, I needed to have everything figured out first.

Like I needed to be the perfect example of everything I was encouraging other people to practice.

But I’m not.

I’m still learning.

I’m still struggling with overthinking, exhaustion, perfectionism, and the constant feeling that I should be doing more.

I still have days when I know exactly what I should do to take care of myself, but actually doing it feels like an entirely different challenge.

And maybe that’s okay.

Maybe you don’t have to master something before you’re allowed to talk about it.

Maybe sometimes the most meaningful reminders come from people who are still learning the lessons themselves.

The Self-Care Creator Who Sometimes Forgets Self-Care

I think there’s this strange expectation that people who write about mental health and self-care must somehow have their lives together.

Like we wake up every morning feeling peaceful.

We drink enough water.

We journal consistently.

We set healthy boundaries without feeling guilty.

We recognize burnout before it happens.

We never spiral into overthinking at 3 AM.

Wouldn’t that be nice?

But that’s not always reality.

Sometimes the people writing about healing are writing from the middle of the storm, not from the other side of it.

Sometimes we’re creating the very resources we wish we’d had during our hardest moments.

And sometimes we’re reminding ourselves just as much as we’re reminding everyone else.

I didn’t start creating mental wellness content because I had all the answers.

I started because I had questions.

A lot of them.

I wanted to understand myself, my emotions, my experiences, and why certain things felt so difficult.

Somewhere along the way, those questions became blog posts, artwork, journals, digital resources, and comforting little characters.

And what started as a way of helping myself became something I wanted to share with others.

What If Creating Is My Form of Self-Care?

Here’s another thing I’ve been realizing.

Maybe I’ve spent too much time worrying about whether I’m resting the right way.

We’re constantly shown this picture of what self-care is supposed to look like.

Bubble baths.

Face masks.

Meditation.

Perfectly organized journals.

Quiet mornings with a cup of tea.

And don’t get me wrong, those things can be wonderful.

But what happens when your brain doesn’t really know how to shut off?

What happens when sitting in silence makes you think even more?

For me, creativity has always been the place where my emotions feel safest.

Sometimes self-care looks like opening my laptop at night and writing about something that’s been weighing on my mind.

Sometimes it’s creating watercolor animals, designing comforting graphics, making digital collages, or working on a creative project simply because it makes me happy.

Sometimes it’s journaling until a feeling finally makes sense.

And sometimes it’s turning my messy thoughts into a reflection that another person might relate to.

Some people recharge by escaping their thoughts. I often recharge by understanding mine.

That’s not to say every thought needs to be analyzed.

Believe me, I know how exhausting overthinking can become.

But there’s a difference between getting trapped in your thoughts and giving those thoughts somewhere meaningful to go.

And for me, that place has always been creativity.

Maybe Deep Thinking Isn’t Always Overthinking

I’ve always been a deep thinker.

My brain has approximately 47 tabs open at any given moment, and at least three of them are playing music I can’t find.

Very peaceful. Highly recommend.

But seriously, I’ve spent a lot of my life wishing I could think less.

Worry less.

Analyze less.

Feel less overwhelmed by everything happening around me.

And while I’m still learning when to step away from unhelpful thought patterns, I’m also beginning to appreciate another side of my mind.

The part that notices little details.

The part that reflects on experiences.

The part that turns feelings into writing.

The part that finds meaning in memories, creativity, and everyday moments.

Maybe that part of me doesn’t need to be silenced.

Maybe it just needs balance.

Because reflection can help us grow.

Creativity can help us process.

And understanding ourselves can be a form of self-care, too.

The challenge is knowing when thinking is helping us and when it’s simply exhausting us.

I’m still learning that difference.

I Can Love Creating and Still Need to Rest

This might be the hardest lesson for me.

Just because something brings me joy doesn’t mean I can’t burn myself out doing it.

I love writing.

I love designing.

I love creating new ideas and turning them into something real.

But sometimes I get so caught up in doing things I love that I forget I’m still a human being with limits.

I’ll finish one project and immediately start thinking about the next.

I’ll cross something off my to-do list and somehow add five more things.

I’ll tell myself I’m going to have a relaxing evening, only to open my laptop because I suddenly have another idea.

Sound familiar?

The problem isn’t that I love creating.

The problem is when I start treating every creative moment like another responsibility.

Because even meaningful work can become exhausting when we never give ourselves permission to stop.

And that’s something I need to remind myself of more often.

Rest doesn’t have to be earned. And not every creative idea needs to become another project.

Sometimes I can create just for fun.

Sometimes I can leave something unfinished.

Sometimes I can have an idea and save it for another day.

And sometimes I can do absolutely nothing without turning it into a personal failure.

I’m working on that last one.

Healing Doesn’t Mean Never Struggling Again

I think one of the biggest misconceptions about healing is that eventually we reach this magical point where everything becomes easy.

We stop overthinking.

We stop doubting ourselves.

We stop feeling overwhelmed.

We finally love ourselves perfectly.

And then we live happily ever after.

Except life doesn’t really work that way.

Healing isn’t a straight line.

It’s not a checklist you complete.

It’s not something you graduate from once you’ve learned enough coping skills.

Sometimes growth looks like recognizing an old pattern and making a different choice.

Sometimes it looks like setting a boundary even though you feel guilty.

Sometimes it looks like recognizing that you’re exhausted before you completely burn out.

And sometimes it looks like having a difficult day and remembering that one difficult day doesn’t erase the progress you’ve made.

I’m learning that I can be someone who advocates for self-care while still struggling to practice it consistently.

I can share mental health reminders while still needing support myself.

I can encourage others to be gentle with themselves while learning how to soften my own inner voice.

Those things don’t make me a hypocrite.

They make me a person who’s still growing.

Maybe We Heal by Reminding Each Other

One of the reasons I love writing reflections is that I never really know who might need to read them.

Maybe someone is feeling overwhelmed.

Maybe they’re exhausted from trying to keep everyone happy.

Maybe they’re struggling with the same thoughts I’ve been carrying around.

Or maybe they’re simply having a bad day and need to hear that they’re allowed to slow down.

But here’s something I’ve started noticing.

When I write those reminders for someone else, I’m also writing them for myself.

When I say, “You don’t have to be productive every second of the day,” I’m reminding myself that I don’t either.

When I say, “You’re allowed to have boundaries,” I’m reminding myself that my own limits matter.

When I say, “Doing your best doesn’t mean doing everything,” I’m reminding myself that I don’t have to carry the whole world on my shoulders.

Maybe that’s what makes sharing our experiences so meaningful.

We don’t have to be experts.

We don’t have to have everything figured out.

We don’t have to pretend we’ve reached some perfect version of ourselves.

We can simply be people learning alongside other people.

And maybe that’s enough.

A Little Reminder for Both of Us

If you’re someone who spends a lot of time supporting others, encouraging them, or reminding them to take care of themselves, I hope you remember something.

You deserve the same compassion you give away so freely.

You’re allowed to need the advice you give.

You’re allowed to struggle with things you understand.

You’re allowed to be a work in progress.

You’re allowed to find peace through creativity, writing, quiet hobbies, or whatever helps you reconnect with yourself.

And you’re also allowed to rest without making it productive.

I’m learning that self-care isn’t a destination where I suddenly become the perfectly healed version of myself.

It’s a relationship I keep rebuilding with myself.

Some days I do better than others.

Some days I forget everything I’ve learned and have to remind myself all over again.

But I’m trying.

And maybe that’s what doing my best-ish really means.

Not having it all together.

Not always following my own advice.

Just being willing to keep learning, growing, creating, and showing myself a little more kindness along the way.

Because sometimes the person writing the reminder needs to hear it just as much as the person reading it.

And maybe that’s how we help each other heal.

One imperfect reminder at a time.

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A question for you:

Do you ever find yourself giving other people advice that you struggle to follow yourself? And what does self-care actually look like for you when nobody’s watching?

I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Still learning, still creating, and still figuring it out.

Doing my best-ish.