When people talk about physical self-care, I used to immediately think of intense workout routines or complicated meal prep. As someone who's never been naturally athletic and has a complicated relationship with food, this always made me feel like I was failing before I even started.

I spent fifteen years of my life thinking about food constantly. Not because I loved cooking or was passionate about nutrition, but because I was trapped in a cycle of restriction, overthinking, and guilt around eating. I knew the calorie count of most foods, could estimate portions with scientific precision, and had a complicated relationship with every meal.

I used to feel like a fraud at the gym. Everyone around me seemed to have their routine perfectly planned, wore matching workout sets, and actually looked forward to lifting weights. Me? I was the person who would spend 20 minutes walking slowly on the treadmill, occasionally stopping to check my phone and pretend I was warming up.

There's a common misconception that getting healthy requires dramatic lifestyle overhauls. You know the ones: quit sugar completely, work out seven days a week, meal prep every Sunday, get up at 5 AM. While those approaches work for some people, they felt impossible for me – and they probably do for most people with real lives.

I used to think that being stressed out was just part of modern life. Work deadlines, family responsibilities, social obligations – it all seemed inevitable. And while some stress is normal, I realized that how I handled it made all the difference between thriving and just surviving.

If you've ever felt overwhelmed by nutrition information, you're not alone. One day avocado toast is a superfood; the next day, it's a carb-loaded trap. One expert tells you to eat five small meals a day; another insists on intermittent fasting. It's enough to make anyone throw their hands up and just eat whatever they want.

Three years ago, I was that person who bragged about getting by on 5 hours of sleep. Coffee was my best friend, and I wore my exhaustion like a badge of honor. Then came the wake-up call – literally and figuratively.