Having an aha moment is one thing. Living it is entirely another.
After my stroke and the profound realization that I needed to honor and love myself first, I faced a daunting question: What does “getting my life in order” actually mean when the old way—seeking approval and love from others—clearly wasn’t working?
Even with my newfound awareness, distinguishing between other people’s love and genuine self-love remained an enormous challenge.
Rehab: More Than Physical Recovery
Rehabilitation presented countless obstacles to rebuilding my life, but the physical challenges were just the beginning. The real work was internal—learning to navigate a world where I could no longer rely on external validation as my compass.
My old sidekicks—fear, self-doubt, and unworthiness—didn’t simply disappear because I’d had an epiphany. They continued whispering their familiar refrains, trying to pull me back into old patterns of seeking worth through others’ eyes.
The journey to authentic self-love required me to fundamentally rewire decades of conditioning. I had to learn to sit with discomfort, to question every impulse to seek approval, and to slowly build a relationship with the person I’d been neglecting my entire life: myself.
Finding Sacred Tools on the Mat
In yoga, I discovered the tools I desperately needed. It was music to my ears—finally, practical methods for the internal work I knew I had to do.
Through yoga, I found meditation that quieted the chaos in my mind. I discovered deep breathing techniques that anchored me in my body and the present moment. The asanas taught me patience, persistence, and the beauty of gradual progress.
Amidst all the meditation, breathing, and physical practice, something magical happened: I found clarity and peace. I could truly be present—not lost in worries about others’ opinions or fears about my worthiness. In those moments of presence, something fundamental shifted. More and more, I began to love me.
The Ongoing Journey: 17 Years and Counting
Seventeen years after the stroke, I remain on this journey to know my truest self. It’s been a path of mini-steps, each one significant in its own way. I’m learning to transform fear into courage, using the fear itself as fuel rather than letting it paralyze me. Self-doubt is slowly becoming confidence, and feelings of unworthiness are evolving into a deep sense of inherent worth.
My old sidekicks still try to get my attention—they haven’t completely disappeared. But now I approach them differently. Instead of fighting them or being ashamed of their presence, I give them love, compassion, peace, and healing.
This gentler approach has taught me something profound: those sidekicks were never my enemies. They were parts of me that had learned to protect me in the only way they knew how. By treating them with kindness rather than resistance, I’m learning to integrate all aspects of myself.
The Promise of Freedom
Eventually, I will set them—set me—free. Not by destroying or denying parts of myself, but by loving myself so completely that fear, self-doubt, and unworthiness naturally dissolve in the presence of that love.
This journey back to self-love isn’t a destination but a daily practice. Some days are easier than others. Some days the old patterns feel stronger, and some days the new ways of being feel more natural.
What I’ve learned is that healing isn’t linear, and self-love isn’t a switch you flip once and never touch again. It’s a garden you tend daily, a relationship you nurture consistently, a commitment you renew with each breath.
The stroke may have broken my brain temporarily, but it ultimately led me home to myself. And that journey home—however long it takes, however many mini-steps it requires—is the most important trip I’ll ever make.