I didn’t set out to build my work around self-care.
In my earlier professional life, I was simply doing my job, supporting people who wanted to feel better and live more fully. Alongside treatments, medications, and other forms of support, I noticed something quietly repeating.
Some people improved more easily than others.
Week after week, patterns began to emerge. Not just in symptoms, but in how people related to their bodies and daily lives. Over time, it became clear that those who explored gentle, supportive forms of self-care alongside other help often found steadier progress than those who didn’t.
What interested me most wasn’t what people did — but how.
I noticed that certain bodies responded far better to a quieter, more intuitive approach. Especially sensitive systems. Especially people who had already tried “doing all the right things” and still felt stuck.
That observation stayed with me.
It’s one of the reasons I created Make Self-Care Simple — because I was lucky enough to witness the same patterns repeating across different people and situations, and to recognise that mainstream self-care doesn’t suit everyone.
But this work isn’t just professional for me.
It’s personal.
My own life — like many — isn’t neat or predictable. It carries uncertainty, unexpected challenges, and a few dreams still waiting to be lived. And my body, too, has often been sensitive and uncooperative.
So I practise what I share.
Not perfectly.
Not rigidly.
But attentively.
Each day, I explore what might help my body feel a little more supported, not so life becomes flawless, but so it becomes more available.
Because the truth I’ve come to understand is this:
Self-care isn’t the point.
Life is.
When my body feels supported, life opens up. Not into a big, shiny “best life”, but into the real one. Ordinary days. Changing energy. Quiet moments of connection, creativity, and choice.
When it doesn’t, even simple things can feel heavy, as though I’m standing on the sidelines, waiting for life to begin again.
And yet, even my most uncooperative body responds to gentle self-care. Enough for better days. Enough to want to keep listening.
That’s why self-care matters to me.
Not as another obligation.
Not as something to get right.
But as a way of building a better quality of life. One that can be lived, here and now.
If you’d like to explore how I approach self-care, you might like A quieter way to think about self-care.
Or, if you prefer something practical, you can begin by creating your own Menu of Self-Care.