What I Believe About Wellness

Wellness has become a loud word.

It’s often framed as something to optimize, perfect, or earn — another area of life where we’re expected to try harder, do more, and keep pushing even when we’re exhausted.

This is not that kind of wellness.

The beliefs I’m sharing here have been shaped by years working in special education, by my own experience as a neurodivergent adult, and by what happens when we slow down enough to actually listen to our bodies.

These are not rules. They are anchors.

1. Wellness Is Not About Fixing Yourself

At the core of everything I believe about wellness is this truth: you are not broken.

Many of the struggles people try to “fix” — overwhelm, burnout, inconsistency, emotional reactivity — are not personal failures. They are nervous system responses to prolonged stress, unrealistic expectations, and environments that don’t offer enough support.

When wellness is framed as self-improvement, it quietly reinforces the idea that something about you needs correcting. A gentler approach starts somewhere else entirely — with curiosity instead of judgment.

You don’t need to become someone new to be well. You need space to be who you already are.

2. Regulation Comes Before Productivity

In special education, one of the first things we learn is that a dysregulated nervous system cannot access higher-level skills. Learning, problem-solving, and flexibility all depend on feeling safe.

That truth doesn’t disappear in adulthood.

When your body is overwhelmed, no planner, routine, or motivational quote will suddenly make things click. Productivity struggles are often regulation struggles in disguise.

Wellness begins with asking different questions:

• Does my body feel safe right now?

• Am I overstimulated, overtired, or emotionally flooded?

• What would help me settle before I try to do more?

Productivity can come later. Regulation comes first.

3. Rest Is Not a Reward

Many of us were taught that rest is something you earn — after the work is done, after you’ve pushed through, after you’ve proven your worth.

But rest is not a reward.

It is a biological need.

When rest is conditional, it often never arrives. There is always more to do, more to fix, more to improve. Over time, this creates chronic exhaustion that no amount of “self-care” can undo.

Rest doesn’t make you lazy. It makes regulation possible.

Sometimes, the most supportive thing you can do for yourself is stop asking whether you’ve done enough — and start honoring what your body needs.

4. Gentle Routines Work Better Than Rigid Systems

Consistency is often misunderstood.

We’re taught that real routines are strict, uninterrupted, and perfectly maintained. But for many people — especially neurodivergent adults — rigid systems collapse under real life.

Gentle routines leave room for fluctuation.

They adjust for low-energy days. They allow for pauses. They prioritize sustainability over streaks.

A routine that bends is not a failure. It’s a sign that it was designed with humanity in mind.

Wellness doesn’t require doing the same thing every day. It requires returning to yourself again and again.

5. Your Body Holds Important Information

Fatigue, tension, irritability, and emotional numbness are not inconveniences to override. They are forms of communication.

Your body often knows long before your mind does when something isn’t working.

A holistic approach to wellness asks us to notice:

• When do I feel most settled?

• What drains me more than it gives?

• What sensations show up when I’m overwhelmed?

Listening to your body isn’t about perfection or constant awareness. It’s about rebuilding trust — one small moment at a time.

6. You Are Allowed to Go Slowly

We live in a culture that equates speed with success.

But slower doesn’t mean stagnant. It often means safer.

Going slowly allows space for integration, rest, and nervous system repair. It allows changes to actually stick instead of cycling through burnout and restart.

You are not behind because your path looks different.

You are allowed to move at a pace that supports your life, your energy, and your capacity.

A Softer Definition of Wellness

To me, wellness is not about doing more.

It’s about feeling safer in your body. It’s about responding to yourself with compassion. It’s about building a life that feels supportive rather than demanding.

This is the kind of wellness I’m learning to practice — imperfectly, gently, and in real time.

If any part of this resonates with you, you’re not alone.

You’re welcome here.

*This post is based on personal experience and reflection and is not intended as medical or therapeutic advice.

xo,

Samm