The comments I get now that I've returned are almost always the same. You look amazing.
I want to pause here, because this isn’t a post about being told I look amazing. It isn’t shared for validation, and it certainly isn’t an invitation to chase aesthetics. I’m sharing because what happened to my body and my wellbeing over the past year was far simpler than most of us are led to believe. And because it’s something you can access too.
This isn’t a fitness routine. It isn’t a fad diet, calorie counting, or a 30-day reset. It’s something quieter, deeper, and far more sustainable.
It’s a relationship.
A relationship with your body, built on understanding rather than control.
When wellness wasn’t the plan
I stumbled into what became my ‘wellness year’ almost by accident. I thought I’d be chasing sights, tasting everything, bouncing from place to place. Instead, travel slowed us down. Our locations were simple. Our kitchens were basic. And suddenly, food, movement, and the body itself became the centre rather than the sideshow.
We learned about food not through rules, but through necessity. What was available was fresh, local, often unprocessed. In many countries, that meant rice. A lot of rice. Only then did we realise how nutritionally light it can be on its own, so we adapted. We added what we could. We got inventive. Every kitchen, every country, had its quirks.
Our best investment wasn’t activewear or supplements. It was a sieve. One that travelled with us, allowing us to wash and prepare food properly wherever we landed. Wellness didn’t look glamorous. It looked practical.
Movement was the same. We moved every day, not to lose weight, but to feel good. To come back into our bodies. To stay grounded in ourselves and each other when everything else was changing. It became our anchor.
And something unexpected happened.
When stress softened, the body followed
As stress reduced, inflammation quietly fell away. Food began to nourish rather than simply fill. Energy returned. Not the wired kind, but the steady, reliable kind.
We started looking forward to movement. Gym sessions and yoga weren’t obligations; they were invitations. Before we knew it, they had climbed to the top of our priorities, not because we forced them there, but because they gave something back.
Curiosity followed. We listened to podcasts like ZOE, learning about the microbiome and current nutritional science, and realised we were accidentally doing many of the right things. Where there were gaps, we filled them gently. And things kept improving.
Not through intensity. Through consistency.
Strong over skinny, always
Somewhere along the way, I stopped caring about being smaller.
Longevity doesn’t come from skinny. It comes from strong. From resilient muscles, adaptable joints, and a nervous system that feels safe enough to rest.
Consistency became more powerful than how much weight I could lift. Movement in any form counted. Walking, yoga, strength, rest. The body responded not to extremes, but to regular care.
This is a commitment, not a change
I don’t love the word change when it comes to wellness. Change implies something temporary. Something you endure until you can return to ‘normal’.
This is a commitment.
A commitment to choose yourself and your long-term health.
We commit to vitamins, supplements, switching from coffee to matcha, skincare routines. Small daily acts that add up. Movement and food deserve the same steadiness, without the drama.
The problem is the noise. Conflicting advice. Trends. Fear-based messaging. No wonder so many of us feel overwhelmed before we even begin.
So let me simplify it.
What you do with your body is directly impacted by what you put into it. If you want to feel better, stronger, and at ease in your body long term, the work is not restriction. It’s learning.
What learning your body actually looks like
It starts with listening.
Move in ways that suit your body on any given day. Have enough practices in your arsenal to adapt to mood, energy, and enthusiasm. That might mean cardio only one week a month. It might mean switching between vinyasa and yin. It might mean rest.
Listening is a skill, and most of us are out of practice. We’ve spent years ignoring the body’s requests, suppressing signals, or softening discomfort with a glass of wine. I can say that because I’ve lived it.
As you listen, notice what you ask of your body. What you expect from it. And what it quietly does for you by default.
We treat expensive cars with reverence. Premium fuel. Regular servicing. Care.
Your body is no different.
Better fuel leads to better output. Not as punishment or reward, but as cause and effect.
Slowness is the missing ingredient
This part matters.
There is no pressure here. No timeline. No expectation of rapid results.
You’ll learn as you go. You’ll read things that resonate. Over time, you’ll naturally gravitate towards better food, more nourishing recipes, and movement that challenges and supports you.
When you turn down the desire for instant results, you allow the body to return to homeostasis on its own. Forced diets are stressful. Stress, as we’ve learned, works against the body, not with it.
The same goes for obsessing over ‘perfect’ foods. Start with colour. We are drawn to it instinctively. Eat the rainbow. Let curiosity lead.
And four half-hearted gym sessions you resent will never be as effective as one movement practice you genuinely enjoy. Find something that makes you feel like you. Build from there.
A gentle reality check
Fitness trainers, influencers, and even yoga teachers have an advantage.
They’ve been practising for years. It’s their work.
Your body will not look or feel like theirs if it’s been living under chronic stress, rushing, and pressure. And it isn’t meant to.
We are gentle, sentient beings. We need time to recalibrate, to adjust, and then devotion to maintain balance.
Expectation and urgency are often the enemy.
Devotion over dedication
Dedication is masculine. Devotion is feminine.
We are feminine.
Let’s be devoted to ourselves before being dedicated to the ideals others perpetuate.
When you soften, listen, and respond with care, your interest in wellness becomes nourishment. A relationship built on connection rather than control. Not a quick fix, but something that lasts.
You have to know yourself before you can be yourself.
You’re already in there. Whole. Capable. Beautiful.
When you listen, you’ll shine through.
I’ve created a super simple, supportive table of suggestions you can download below. It includes gentle options for low-energy days, more intense training for high-energy days, and a guide to foods you can slowly add in or ease away from as you devote yourself to your health. This is the begining more coming soon. Print this out and pop it on your fridge for a simple daily reminder. Daily Wellness.
