What my body has been trying to tell me

On what chronic stress actually does to the body — what a hard season taught me, and why even I needed the reminder.

There are days when showing up for yourself looks like getting dressed and going to the gym. And there are days when it looks like staying in your pajamas until late afternoon, letting yourself cry when you need to, and ordering pizza for dinner. I've had more of the second kind lately than I'd like to admit.

I'm telling you this not because I want you to worry about me, but because it's the most honest way I know to start a conversation about what stress actually does to the body. Because right now, my body is keeping score. And the score is not pretty.

My low back is killing me. I can't find a comfortable position no matter what I do. My sleep has been restless for weeks — I wake up as exhausted as I was when I went to bed. My energy is somewhere on the floor next to my motivation to cook a real meal, go for a walk, or do much of anything that I know would help. My attention span is practically nonexistent. I keep telling Chris I'm brain dead. I feel disorganized in a way that's deeply uncomfortable for someone who runs a business. And earlier this week,after a long day with my parents, I had a full meltdown — anger, frustration, tears, the whole thing. Poor Chris.

This is what chronic stress looks like from the inside. And I say that not with shame, but with the kind of recognition that comes from twenty years of watching it happen to other people and now watching it happen to me.

Here's what I know, both from this work and from living in this body: stress is not just a feeling. It's a biological event. When your nervous system perceives a threat — and it doesn't much care whether that threat is a tiger or a parent with dementia or a grief you can't quite name — it floods your body with cortisol and adrenaline. Your muscles tighten. Your digestion slows. Your immune system takes a back seat. Your sleep architecture gets disrupted. Your prefrontal cortex — the part responsible for focus, decision-making, and emotional regulation — goes partially offline. Your body redirects every available resource toward survival. That's useful if you're running from something. It's not so useful when the thing you're running from doesn't have an end date.

The first time my body sent me a signal I couldn't ignore, I was a first-time mom  with an infant daughter and a job I didn't particularly love. I started getting headaches. Not occasional headaches — relentless, disorienting ones that scared me enough to go to the doctor. I was convinced something was seriously wrong. After ruling out everything frightening, my doctor looked at me and essentially said: your body is telling you something. Go get a massage. So I did. And I fell completely in love with it. That was the moment everything shifted — not just the headaches, but the direction of my life. Two and a half years later, when my son was born, I finally had the window I needed to go to massage school and start building what would eventually become Circle of Life. My body's distress signal turned into my life's work. It doesn't always work out that neatly. But I'm grateful it did.

So here's where I am right now. I'm not on the other side of this hard season. I'm squarely in the middle of it. But I'm doing the work — imperfectly, some days barely, but doing it. This week I floated, I had a massage, I saw my chiropractor, and I spent some time on the VAT table. I've been in contact with a therapist to start some talk therapy, because I believe in that as much as I believe in everything we offer here. Last weekend my son and his girlfriend were in town — we had pizza, played games, and got out on the golf course. This weekend it's the garden. Fresh air, my hands in the dirt, and nowhere I have to be.

None of that is a cure. All of it is a choice to keep showing up for myself even when showing up looks

like pajamas and a good cry and ordering pizza instead of cooking.

Your body is keeping score. It always is. The question isn't whether it's sending you signals - it's whether you're listening.

I'm listening. Finally, really listening.

Come in. Let us help you hear what yours has been trying to say.

— Jen