The Most Underrated Health Skill: Learning to Trust Yourself

Recently, I was sitting at my desk with one of those long, boring to-do lists in front of me. The kind I dread but that still has to get done.

Call the vet. Answer the emails. Pay the bills. Scheduling logistics. A handful of loose ends I really wanted to tie up.

And I was determined to finish just one more thing.

The problem was, I was tired. I’d been working too long.

And hungry.

And increasingly frustrated because the work wasn’t going the way I wanted it to.

I could feel myself getting less patient and less clear. The being behind everything I was doing was not good anymore.

I knew what I needed.

Stop.

Eat lunch.

Walk away from the computer for a little while.

And yet I kept thinking, Just finish this one thing first.

Just get this done, and then I’ll eat.

Just answer this email, and then I’ll take a break.

I wish I could tell you that because I’ve spent most of my adult life studying health, I’m really good at listening when my body gives me signals like this.

Sometimes I am. But sometimes, I’m not.

So I kept pushing.

At some point, my son came in and asked me something simple. 

I don’t even remember what it was.

But I remember how I answered him.

I snapped.

He hadn’t done anything wrong. I was hungry, tired, frustrated and trying to force myself through work that clearly was not going well.

That was my cue. Enough.

By that time, I was ravenous. I didn’t even feel like I could wait long enough to make my go-to salad that I usually have for lunch. So I stood in the kitchen shoving gluten-free crackers into my mouth while I tried to get something more substantial together.

Not exactly the nourishing lunch I had intended. :)

And then came the really annoying part.

After I ate and stepped away for a little while, I went back and looked at some of the work I had been so determined to finish.

I really hadn’t accomplished much.

Some of it needed to be redone.

And I remember thinking, What exactly was the point of all that?

I ignored my hunger.

I ignored my fatigue.

I got increasingly frustrated.

I snapped at someone I love.

I got so hungry that I ended up eating in a way I hadn’t intended.

And the work I was protecting so fiercely wasn’t even very good.

My body had been giving me really clear information the entire time.

I’m hungry.

I’m tired.

I’m getting frustrated.

My brain needs a break.

I heard all of it.

And I overrode myself anyway.

And I realized how moments like this affect something we don’t talk about nearly enough in health: self-trust.

We do this in little ways all the time

Maybe your version doesn’t involve a computer and a box of gluten-free crackers.

But I think a lot of us know this pattern.

We tell ourselves:

Tonight I’m going to bed earlier. 

I’m going to take a walk after lunch.

I’m going to stop working at six.

I’m going to eat before I get ravenous.

I’m not going to spend another hour scrolling tonight.

I need some breathing room this weekend, so I’m going to say no to that invitation.

We know how important sleep is for healing and recovery, how much better we feel when we move, and how much stress affects us. The problem isn’t that we don’t know. It’s that following through can be hard.

And then the moment comes.

There’s one more email.

One more task.

One more episode.

One more request.

And somehow, the promise we made to ourselves becomes the easiest promise to break.

Missing one walk or staying up late one night is not what concerns me.

Life happens. We are human.

What I’ve become more interested in is what happens underneath all of those moments.

What happens to our relationship with ourselves when we repeatedly know what we need and choose not to listen?

Because eventually, we start collecting evidence.

I’m not very consistent.

I never stick with anything.

I know what I should do. I just don’t do it.

And if we repeat those sentences enough, something that started as a description of what we did can slowly become a description of who we think we are.

I’m just not a disciplined person.

This is just how I am.

And sometimes those stories get even harsher: 

I’m a failure. Or Something must be wrong with me.

That’s where I think building healthy habits becomes about much more than the habits themselves.

It becomes about trust. 

How we rebuild self-trust

Every time you make a small promise to yourself and keep it, you collect a different kind of evidence.

I said I would take a ten-minute walk, and I did.

I said I needed to stop working, and I stopped.

I said I was going to put my phone away tonight, and I followed through.

I said I needed a few minutes to myself, and I actually took them.

Nothing about those choices is particularly impressive from the outside.

But inside, something happens.

There’s a little satisfaction.

A little pride.

A quiet sense of, I did what I said I was going to do.

And eventually:

I can trust myself.

I do follow through.

I am someone who takes care of myself.

That shift in identity matters.

Because when you begin to believe that about yourself, the next supportive choice doesn’t have to start from zero.

You already have evidence.

Maybe we’ve been starting too big

This is where I think we sometimes get health goals backward.

We choose the goal based on the size of the change we want.

We want to feel significantly better, so naturally we think we need to do something significant.

Exercise five days a week.

Completely overhaul our diet.

Meditate every morning.

Go to bed an hour earlier.

Meal prep for hours every Sunday.

Kick the coffee.

And maybe clean out the pantry while we’re at it.

Then life happens, we can’t keep up with the plan, and we use that as more evidence that we’re bad at following through.

What if we approached it differently?

What if the first goal wasn’t to change as much as possible?

What if the first goal was simply to create a win?

Something realistic enough that you have a really good chance of doing what you said you would do. 

Maybe instead of an hour-long workout, it’s a ten-minute walk. (Or even five is a good start.)

Maybe instead of creating the perfect evening routine, you put your phone away fifteen minutes earlier.

Maybe instead of completely changing how you eat, you make sure you eat lunch before you become so hungry that gluten-free crackers suddenly qualify as a food group. :)

Maybe instead of clearing the entire weekend, you protect one hour.

Maybe you clear clutter from one small space in your home that has been quietly making you feel overwhelmed.

None of those things is a complete life overhaul.

But each one can be a way of beginning again, and keeping a promise to yourself.

It might not feel ambitious enough.

But I think we underestimate the power of being able to say:

I said I was going to do this for myself, and I did.

Then you do it again.

And maybe next time, you ask a little more of yourself.

Not because you’re forcing yourself into becoming a different person.

Because you’re starting to believe you already are someone who follows through.

This is part of health too

We talk a lot about nutrition, movement, sleep, stress and supplements.

Those things matter.

But I think our relationship with ourselves matters too.

Can I notice what my body is telling me?

Can I believe what I hear?

Can I make a choice based on that information?

And when I tell myself something matters, can I practice showing myself that I matter enough to follow through?

I’m still working on this.

Clearly.

There will undoubtedly be another day when I stay at my computer too long because I’m convinced I can finish one more thing.

But I’m getting better at noticing what happens when I do.

And I’m realizing that taking care of myself often has much less to do with knowing the perfect thing to do and much more to do with honoring what I already know.

Maybe that’s what beginning again can look like this month.

Not starting from scratch.

Not a giant overhaul.

Not ten things.

One meaningful promise to yourself that you can actually keep.

Maybe you add something that supports you.

Maybe you clear something that doesn’t.

And then you follow through.  And notice how it feels when you do.

Because every time you follow through, you’re not only changing a habit.

You’re building trust with yourself.

And little by little, you may start changing the story you tell yourself about who you are.

And that changes everything.