Since becoming sick, I’ve had to relearn how to do so many things.
Basic tasks that once came easily now require effort, intention, and patience.
For someone like me—an achiever, a planner, a “let’s get it done” kind of person—this has been incredibly frustrating.
But illness has a way of stripping away control.
It’s humbling. Sometimes terrifying. And it’s forced me to ask:
What if growth could look different now?
That question led me to a new perspective—one rooted in a slow growth mindset.
Where It Began
This shift started when I read The 5AM Club by Mel Robbins. What resonated most was the idea that consistency matters more than intensity. That meaningful change happens not through big pushes, but through small steps repeated over time.
I started asking myself:
What if I stopped trying to do everything at once?
What if I focused on small, daily actions instead?
For example: writing a book.
Old me would try to carve out hours, get overwhelmed, and give up.
Now? I focus on just 30 minutes a day. That adds up to 3.5 hours a week—and it feels sustainable. Grounded. Real.
Moving with Intention
I’ve also applied the slow growth mindset to movement.
Instead of punishing workouts, I’ve started practicing somatic exercises—gentle, breath-led movements that take 10 minutes or less. They’re doable. Nourishing. And surprisingly effective.
I’m feeling better. More connected. Less inflamed.
And the most unexpected part?
Other people are noticing, too.
What Slow Growth Means to Me Now
This way of growing—gently, steadily, with patience—feels new. And it’s working.
It’s not about chasing the finish line anymore.
It’s about honoring where I am, and showing up for myself one step at a time.
That’s what a slow growth mindset is all about:
Not hustle.
Not perfection.
But presence. Progress. Self-trust.
Keep Going—Slowly
So if you’re healing, rebuilding, or simply exhausted by the pressure to “get there,” maybe it’s time to shift.
Maybe slow is sacred.
Maybe stillness is strength.
Maybe real growth isn’t loud—but deeply rooted.
You’re not behind.
You’re blooming—at your own pace.
And you’ve got this.
