This year began peacefully, but things took a sharp turn in August when I became very ill and needed to stay in the hospital for several days to receive treatment.

Recovering was difficult enough on its own, but life had more waiting for me. Within ten days this fall, both my mother-in-law and my father passed away. Grieving one loss is heartbreaking; grieving two so close together is disorienting in a way I still don’t fully have words for. In the midst of processing everything, I worried about my mom, who was navigating her own heartbreak while adjusting to a completely different life. At home, my spouse also went through a layoff scare that left us both emotionally stretched thin.

It felt as if life kept piling one crisis on top of the next — illness, grief, worry, uncertainty — all without giving me a chance to pause or catch my breath. And because of that, I had to step back from almost everything: my creative work, my usual routines, even my online presence. I didn’t have the capacity to pretend I was okay when I wasn’t.

But this sequence of events marked an important shift in how I understand self-care. I began to see it not as something meant to solve my problems — because nothing about illness, loss, or fear can be fixed overnight — but as something meant to preserve me while I faced them.

During one of my therapy sessions, my therapist said something that stayed with me:“Self-care isn’t about fixing your life. It’s about preserving you while you move through it.”
And that realization shed new light on what self-care truly means for me — helping me understand, deeply and personally, that self-care is really about preservation.

The Kind of Self-Care We Don’t Talk About Enough

We often talk about self-care as though it’s a cure — as though a walk, a journal entry, or a cup of tea can magically lift us out of heartbreak or stress. And while these things can offer a moment of relief, they don’t change the reality of grief, illness, or crisis. 

When life collapses all at once, self-care stops being about feeling better or improving your mood.

In seasons like this, self-care becomes about preservation — protecting your emotional, physical, and mental capacity so you don’t lose yourself in the heaviness of everything happening around you. It’s choosing the small, steady actions that support you when you’re stretched thin and struggling to stay grounded.

And that’s the part of self-care we don’t talk about enough: the version that exists not to fix your life, but to help you stay with yourself while you move through the hardest moments.

What Self-Preservation Looked Like for Me

During the hardest moments of this year, self-preservation became about choosing what genuinely supported me — not what looked productive or impressive. It was about giving myself what I needed to stay steady while moving through grief, recovery, and uncertainty.

Self-preservation looked like:

• Allowing myself to do things that brought me joy, whether that was spending time with Oliver, my furry child, watching something comforting, or giving myself permission to enjoy moments of lightness even in the middle of everything
• Saying no without guilt when I didn’t have the emotional or mental space to show up
• Reaching out for support, which included being honest with loved ones, letting friends check in, and working with my therapist to process the layers of grief, fear, and adjustment
• Letting myself rest, not as an afterthought, but as a necessary part of recovery and healing
• Choosing ease wherever possible, reminding myself that my health, my family, and my full-time job come first — and that everything else can move at a slower, gentler pace without needing to be rushed

These choices didn’t fix what was happening around me, but they helped me preserve my energy, protect my wellbeing, and stay connected to myself during a season that demanded so much.

Why Preservation Matters More Than Ever

For most of my life, I’ve gotten through hard moments by simply pushing through. I kept going because that’s what I thought I was supposed to do — stay strong, stay busy, hold everything together. But this year showed me that constantly operating in “push through it” mode isn’t sustainable, especially when life gets heavy all at once.

Preservation, on the other hand, is different.

It’s not about ignoring what’s happening or forcing yourself to be okay. It’s about taking care of yourself in ways that keep you steady, supported, and connected to what you need.

Preservation gives you permission to slow down when everything feels overwhelming. It makes space for grief without judgment. It reminds you that rest is not a weakness — it’s part of how you stay well.

And most importantly, it teaches you that you don’t have to disappear into your responsibilities or your pain. You’re allowed to care for yourself through it all.

A Gentle Note to Anyone Going Through a Hard Time

If you’re in a chapter that feels heavy or endless, I hope you remember this:

Self-care won’t erase your grief.

It won’t change your circumstances.

It won’t remove your worry.

But it can preserve you.

It can hold you through the hardest days.

It can soften life just enough for you to keep going.

It can help you stay connected to yourself when everything feels out of control.

And sometimes, that’s more than enough.

I know it can be really challenging to pick up the pieces, and I’m still on that journey myself. But I’m finding that I’m approaching it with more kindness, honesty, and care than I ever allowed myself before. Maybe that’s what true preservation is all about — being there for yourself, even when life brings heartache. You’re not alone in this, and it’s okay to take your time as you heal.

No matter where you find yourself in your journey, I truly hope you can stay connected to who you are and take care of yourself along the way.