It’s a funny thing about stress — sometimes, the signs are clear as day: the pounding heart, the restless nights, the tears on the toilet. But other times? You can be living inside a storm and have no idea it’s even raining.
Back in 2008, I was 37 years old, juggling what felt like a lifetime’s worth of stuff. In the span of a year, I’d had multiple kidney stones removed and was told one of my kidneys wasn’t functioning and would need to be removed. I was two years into running my own small business, managing staff, paying wages, making big decisions. I had two young children, just 3 and 2 years old, who needed me constantly. On top of that, I was studying for my education degree at university — because that was part of the plan.
One day, I sat across from a naturopath who asked me a simple question: “Are you stressed?”
Without missing a beat, I said, “No.” I said no because to me at the time I thought real stress was big ticket items, like death of a family member, chronic illness in the family or marital issues. And I was all good.
In retrospect I was the definition of stressed. But at the time? I honestly didn’t think I was. I was too busy doing. Too busy getting it all done. There was no time to stop and notice how tightly I was holding it all together.
That’s the thing about stress. It’s sneaky. Sometimes it hides behind the busyness. It convinces you that you’re coping because you’re getting through the day — ticking off the to-do list, feeding the kids, showing up to work, submitting the assignments. But deep down, your body keeps the score.
Now, with a little more wisdom and hindsight, I try to check in with myself more often. To pause long enough to ask: How am I, really? To listen to my body’s whispers before they become screams.
So, if you’re reading this and you’ve been head down, powering through, telling yourself you’re fine — maybe take a breath. Ask yourself the question I didn’t know how to answer back then. Because sometimes, the truth is: you don’t even know you’re stressed — until you do.
Make a cup of tea, put your hand on your heart, and ask yourself, How am I really doing?
And if the answer surprises you, be gentle. You’re allowed to pause. You’re allowed to rest. You’re allowed to notice you.
