Detours, Healing, and the Necessity of Self-Care
Life brings valleys, hills, and, at times, unexpected detours. I’ve never claimed to be someone who has it all together. The truth is, I simply want to love and help heal people. But along the way, something can suddenly arise that exposes a part of you that still needs attention—a part of you that requires a microscope.
As both a therapist and a human, I can say this is true for all of us.
We can be a bit naive in believing that enough therapy, coaching, or mentorship will fully resolve our pain. I don’t know that I ever declared that belief out loud, but somewhere deep down, I thought I had uncovered all the depths of my own wounds. Life, however, has a way of revealing more—often when we least expect it. You can be walking a familiar path and suddenly find yourself wishing you had taken a detour. But not all detours are bad.
Some detours are necessary. They become sacred pauses—gentle reminders of what truly matters. They awaken our spirit, soul, and body. They reconnect us with friendships that still hold deep roots, even after seasons of busyness. Like the friends who resurface after the chaos of motherhood, picking up right where you left off. Or the simplicity of walking in nature, letting the earth ground your soul and body. Or moments of stillness that whisper truths in the quiet.
Recently, I took an 8-day silent retreat at the Ignatius Jesuit Centre, needing to step away and reconnect with God. It reminded me—again—that even as a therapist, I need space to be human. Not perfect. Just real.
We hear a lot about self-care these days. It’s become a bit of a buzzword, but that doesn’t make it any less vital. I say this with both professional and personal urgency: self-care is not optional. It’s essential.
My life is full. I love reading, writing, studying, learning, and reflecting. I am a mom to three teenagers, business owner, and therapist. I want to work hard by not repeating painful patterns. I show up for the work. It's not easy. But I want to show up for people as my true self—even if that self got a little (or a lot) lost along the way. I imagine you want that, too.
So please, don’t ask yourself to do this life perfectly. Don’t expect yourself to avoid every misstep. Don’t beat yourself up for not seeing the red flags sooner or for taking a detour you didn’t plan. There’s always grace. Always a new chance. Always a beginning waiting to be embraced.
Redemption is real. And it’s beautiful.
But you have to show up.
You have to do the work. No one else can do it for you. You have to be consistent. And you have to practice self-care—not just as a buzzword, but as a grounding rhythm that steadies you when life feels overwhelming. Whether you’re a mom, dad, spouse, partner, business owner, or simply trying to hold it all together—self-care is how you come home to yourself.
During my retreat, silence became my teacher. The only sounds were footsteps—shifting from one place of meditation to another. It reminded me that slowing down is not a luxury. It’s a necessity—for mental health, for growth, and for deep healing.
If you’re not sure where to begin, start small.
Take a slow walk without your phone.
Write one sentence a day about how you’re feeling.
Sit quietly with a warm cup of tea and just breathe.
Reconnect with a friend who brings you peace.
Light a candle and listen to calming music before bed.
Say no to something, so you can say yes to rest.
Wherever you are, begin there.
You deserve care, too.