I’ve had the energy.
I’ve had the knowledge.
I’ve had the tools, the supplements, the protocols.
I even teach this stuff.
I’ve had the knowledge.
I’ve had the tools, the supplements, the protocols.
I even teach this stuff.
But I still wasn’t moving.
Not because I couldn’t.
Because I wouldn’t.
Because I wouldn’t.
That’s the part nobody wants to admit out loud—especially those of us who are leaders, helpers, healers. We’re supposed to have it together, right? But the truth is, I’ve been stuck. Not physically. Mentally. Spiritually. Emotionally.
And maybe… rebelliously.
The Standoff
I’ve been crying about the weight not budging.
Mad about inflammation.
Frustrated with my clothes.
Mad about inflammation.
Frustrated with my clothes.
And yet, every day I chose not to move.
I made sure everyone else got what they needed.
I did the work, the sessions, the service.
But I neglected the one thing I knew would unlock the shift:
I made sure everyone else got what they needed.
I did the work, the sessions, the service.
But I neglected the one thing I knew would unlock the shift:
Movement.
Simple, consistent, embodied movement.
Simple, consistent, embodied movement.
Why?
Because my flesh hated the idea.
Because self-discipline feels like sandpaper when you're out of practice.
Because my inner rebel would rather pout and stay stuck than be told what to do—even if it’s by me.
Because self-discipline feels like sandpaper when you're out of practice.
Because my inner rebel would rather pout and stay stuck than be told what to do—even if it’s by me.
It’s that familiar loop.
Like the Israelites going around the mountain.
Weeping and wailing.
Wanting freedom but not walking it out.
Begging for breakthrough but refusing to take the uncomfortable step.
Like the Israelites going around the mountain.
Weeping and wailing.
Wanting freedom but not walking it out.
Begging for breakthrough but refusing to take the uncomfortable step.
And let’s be honest—sometimes there’s trauma under the surface.
Sometimes our cells carry stories our minds don’t remember.
But sometimes?
Sometimes our cells carry stories our minds don’t remember.
But sometimes?
It’s just plain disobedience.
It’s flesh.
It’s resistance.
And it needs to be broken.
It’s flesh.
It’s resistance.
And it needs to be broken.
The Breakthrough
This spring, something shifted.
Not dramatically.
Not in a grand revelation.
Just a quiet knowing…
Not dramatically.
Not in a grand revelation.
Just a quiet knowing…
“You’re not tired. You’re just resisting. Move.”
So I did.
One walk.
One stretch.
One step.
One walk.
One stretch.
One step.
And with each act of movement, I’m reclaiming something.
Not just health. Not just energy.
But integrity.
Obedience.
Trust in myself again.
Not just health. Not just energy.
But integrity.
Obedience.
Trust in myself again.
If You’re There Too…
You’re not alone.
You don’t need another plan.
You don’t need another diagnosis.
You need to choose differently—today.
You don’t need another plan.
You don’t need another diagnosis.
You need to choose differently—today.
Not to punish your body.
But to partner with it.
But to partner with it.
Move because you’re ready.
Move because you’ve been stuck.
Move because you’re done going in circles.
Move because you’ve been stuck.
Move because you’re done going in circles.
You don’t need to earn your worth.
But you do need to wake up your will.
But you do need to wake up your will.
For the brave.
The fed up.
The ready.
The fed up.
The ready.
Let’s walk it out—together.
When your in a low place with your health you just need someone to believe in you. I Believe in YOU - Nurse Tanya
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