When life is steady, well-being feels like a checklist: sleep enough, move your body, eat well, take your supplements.
But when everything turns upside down—when you’re grieving, overwhelmed, stretched thin—that’s when the real lessons come through.
The last few months have been some of the hardest I’ve had in a long time. I lost my grandmother. Then, a few months later, I lost my father.
I’ve been balancing multiple projects at work, in the middle of a PhD, and somehow trying to show up as a leader, a student, a sister, a daughter, a friend… all while still taking care of myself.
Here’s what I’ve learned (and am still learning) about well-being—not the Instagram version, but the quiet, raw, deeply personal kind:
1. Grief Doesn’t Ask for Permission
Grief doesn’t wait for the weekend. It shows up in between meetings and to-do lists.
In my case, both phone calls came on Mondays—one just as I was starting my workday, the other at night, while I was in the middle of a PhD class.
Even though I knew those calls could arrive at any moment, when they finally came, they still shocked me.
Nothing could have prepared me to receive them.
Grief is deeply personal; each of us experiences it in a different way.
I’ve learned to let it in, even if just for a moment—a deep breath, a memory, a tear.
I don’t push it away. I try not to judge it.
2. Self-Care Becomes Survival
Self-care has become as simple as drinking water and eating.
Sitting in silence for five minutes. Taking a few days off from work and classes. Going out for a walk.
These tiny acts have become my anchors—small reminders that I’m still here.
3. People Are the Pillars
During these months, I’ve leaned on people more than ever. Friends, family, professors, other PhD students, and coworkers have been there in many different ways.
Sometimes a simple “I’m sorry to hear that” went a long way.
Well-being isn’t a solo mission—it’s collective.
We heal in community, even if the gestures are small.
4. Permission to Pause
One powerful thing I gave myself: permission to do less.
To postpone a task. To take longer walks. To cry during a break.
To spend more time with my family and truly be present.
Sometimes I feel like I spend most of my life thinking and doing.
Now, I’m learning to take time to feel and just be.
Productivity can wait. Healing can’t.
5. It’s Okay Not to Feel “Okay”
I’ve stopped pretending everything is fine.
And strangely, that honesty made me feel more grounded.
There’s peace in truth.
And there’s strength in vulnerability.
Closing Thoughts
These months have reminded me that well-being isn’t about perfection—it’s about compassion.
It’s about creating space for all parts of life: the joy, the sorrow, the chaos, the calm.
And learning, little by little, that I can carry both.