When Your Body Says “Enough, rest now!”

January was a whirlwind. Between the constant barrage of awful news and my own relentless hustle, I felt like I was running on fumes. Looking back, I think I was keeping busy to distract myself—or maybe to feel some sense of control in a world that feels anything but.

By February, I could feel it: my anxiety creeping up my throat, settling heavy on my chest. I knew I was wearing myself thin, and I didn’t want to wait until I hit a breaking point. So, I did something I’m really proud of: I made a therapy appointment.

Turns out, it had been six months since my last session—back when I was just six months postpartum and struggling to adjust to returning to work. That session was a lifeline. Just unloading everything I’d been carrying, and hearing some compassion in return, left me feeling lighter.

But my body wasn’t done talking. That very night, I got really sick. Out of nowhere, I was throwing up, aching all over, and completely wiped out. The next day, all I could do was lie in bed, nibble on crackers, and rest. (Well, “rest” plus the usual mom duties—getting the kids to school and back—but otherwise, I was horizontal.)

By the next day, I was almost back to normal, but I knew I had to take it slow. Here’s the thing: no one else in my house got sick. It was just me. And for once, I connected the dots: my body was forcing me to listen after I’d pushed it too far.

I’ve always separated mental and physical health in my mind—something that’s not scientifically sound but feels culturally ingrained here in the U.S. I know how important it is to care for yourself so you can better care for your kids. But sometimes, I get so caught up in my goals, ambitions, and work that I forget. I put too much weight on producing, on proving my worth through tangible results. And this time, the result was illness.

Don’t get me wrong—being busy, productive, and working toward your dreams can be fulfilling. But when it consumes you, it’s not healthy. Sometimes, we just need to sleep, read, visit a museum, listen to music, and be.

I’ve been listening to a lot of end-of-year podcasts lately, and one theme kept coming up: don’t take on too much. Choose 1–3 goals for the year and work methodically—not manically—toward them. I heard it, but I didn’t listen. I set too many lofty goals, and after just a month, I could feel them wearing me down.

So, I’m trying to reset. To reframe. To remind myself that I don’t have to do everything by next year.

A pretty moment in Harlem. I took it because I realized it wasn’t pitch dark at 5PM as I walked my baby home from daycare.

The world is changing fast, and it’s easy to feel overwhelmed. But I’m learning that rest and joy can be acts of resistance. They can fuel us up for the bigger, more active fights ahead.

With love and solidarity,
Molly

P.S. If you’re feeling the weight of it all too, I hope this email reminds you to pause and listen to your body. And if you’re struggling with anxiety—whether it’s postpartum, prenatal, or just the general chaos of life—my book, One Drawn Out Pregnancy, is here to help. It’s full of humor, compassion, and practical tools to help you feel less alone.

You can grab a copy here or reach out if you’d like to work with me one-on-one. Let’s take care of ourselves so we can keep showing up—for our kids, our communities, and ourselves.