June 18, 2025
For most of my life, I didn’t know what peace felt like. Not really.
Sure, I knew how to appear calm. I knew how to perform “put-together.” But inside, I was always striving. Always chasing. Always moving. My nervous system didn’t know how to rest — it only knew how to hustle.
Because somewhere along the way, I picked up this deep belief that I had to earn my space in the world. That every moment was a test. That I had to prove myself, keep up, stay ahead, or risk falling behind.
I couldn’t just cook dinner. I had to also be listening to a podcast on double speed so I could consume more information. I couldn’t just talk on the phone. I had to be trimming my nails or folding laundry or checking something off a list. If I wasn’t multitasking, I felt behind. I felt unsafe.
Even in social settings, I was constantly scanning the room. What were people thinking? How were they feeling? What did they need from me? And what could I do to fix it? I didn’t just want to be liked — I wanted to be pleasing. Small. Convenient. Easy to love.
Peace, for me, always felt out of reach. Or worse, like something I hadn’t earned yet.
Prioritizing peace didn’t come naturally to me. It felt foreign. It felt unsafe. And it felt selfish.
But over the past few years, that started to change. Slowly.
Not because life got easier. But because I got honest.
I realized that all the striving and proving was burning me out. That my nervous system was stuck in a pattern of high alert. That I was constantly performing because deep down, I didn’t feel like I belonged.
And then something beautiful happened: I gave myself permission to stop. To rest. To listen to my body. To soften.
This shift didn’t happen overnight. In fact, it took years of work.
Here are some of the things that helped me begin prioritizing peace:
Healing doesn’t always show up in big milestones. Sometimes it’s in the smallest things.
Just the other day, I was at the gym. It was packed, and I had made it to a piece of equipment before anyone else. In the past, I would have rushed through my workout or felt guilty for taking up space. I would have let someone else go ahead, convinced they deserved it more.
But this time? I stayed. I took my time. I didn’t apologize for being there.
And it felt like peace.
Learn more about how I am learning to choose myself here.
I used to think peace was something you earned. Something you got after the to-do list was done. After everyone else was taken care of. After you proved yourself enough.
But that’s a lie.
Peace isn’t a luxury. It’s a birthright.
We all deserve to feel safe in our own bodies. Safe in our own lives. Safe to rest, to breathe, to simply be.
And sometimes the most radical thing we can do is choose peace in a world that tells us to hustle harder.
If you’re still in that season of striving, of multitasking, of feeling like you always have to be “on” to be worthy… I see you.
I lived there for a long time.
But I want you to know: there’s another way. It takes work, yes. It takes support. It takes unlearning. But it is possible.
You are allowed to evolve. You are allowed to rest. You are allowed to prioritize peace, even if no one else around you understands it yet.
And when you do? You might just find that peace was never about escaping life. It was about finally coming home to yourself.