Hey everybody, welcome back to the podcast. Today, I want to talk about making time and what can happen when we don’t make time for ourselves.
And how I see this show up is that we will fall off our plan, and we will think it’s because we are lazy. But really, we fall off our plan because we are overwhelmed or overstimulated.
And I want to be clear about that because I think a lot of women, especially working women who are doing a lot, we quietly blame ourselves every time we fall off plan, no matter the reason.
So we miss a habit, and it is immediately blame game central.
We start saying things like, “I don’t have discipline. I should be able to handle this. I don’t have time,” right? All the things we’ve kind of talked about in the last couple of weeks too—this idea of like, I should be able to do this on my own. Why can’t I figure this out?
Maybe I even invested in something, right? I’ve spent this money and it’s not working.
But what I actually see when I coach my clients and we get down to what happened is that these days where things have a tendency to fall apart are actually like the opposite of being lazy.
Those days are super full.
There’s very little space, which means very little room for error or adjustment.
There is constant input. There are constant decisions. There is constant noise.
And so then at the end of the day, when things start to fall apart, we think it’s our fault. We did something wrong. I can’t follow my plan. I’m not disciplined—blah, blah, blah—all the stuff that’s wrong with us.
When if you look at it, it’s really just an overload problem.
We have left no gap for any emotional resilience, for any time—no time buffer, no effort buffer.
We have put ourselves in a position where something is happening every second of the day.
And then when we’re overwhelmed when it’s time to decide what’s for dinner, we take that as a personal flaw.
But it’s not.
It’s overload.
I’m going to give you an example.
So busy working mom, had a baby at home, doctor.
She would go to work, come home immediately—baby, nursing, taking care of all the things.
She would get to about Wednesday, middle of the week, nothing unusual on paper.
Same full clinic. Same full baby.
But what would happen by the end of Wednesday, by the time she came home from that full clinic—with baby needing attention, TV on, everything—and she had been listening to educational stuff in the car on the way there and back, always trying to keep up…
By the end of the day on Wednesday, when the baby would go to sleep, she was done.
And she would be DoorDashing sweet treats.
And when you say it out loud, you can see it.
We started the week with lack of sleep.
By Wednesday morning, we’re already waking up a little groggy, a little behind.
Baby needs stuff right away.
We go to clinic—full day.
Now we’re getting follow-up messages from Monday and Tuesday.
Busy day.
We’re trying to get extra education on the way to and from work.
Then we come home—baby needs attention, TV is on, more stimulation.
It’s nonstop.
So by the time we’re home and there’s more noise and more needs and more distraction, your brain just shuts down.
And it’s like, you know what would feel better?
Sugar. Dopamine. Food.
“I deserve a sweet treat.”
It wasn’t hunger.
And it wasn’t the plan—because she had dinner planned for the week.
It was an overstimulation problem.
An overscheduled problem.
The problem wasn’t ordering the croissant.
That was the result of everything that led up to that.
The turning point wasn’t cutting sugar or adding more rules.
It was recognizing the real problem.
Overstimulation.
No me time.
No self-care.
Her whole day was processing, filtering, responding, managing.
So by the time we do that for days in a row, the body doesn’t need food.
It needs relief.
And your brain will create an urge strong enough that you give it food because that turns things down for a minute.
So overstimulation drives behavior.
Your brain is using a finite resource.
Your capacity decreases.
And this is why so many people feel like they’re doing great… until dinner.
Or until midweek.
Or until the weekend.
So instead of asking, “What’s wrong with me?” ask:
“What was going on for my brain when I made that decision?”
So for her, we created a reset ritual.
Because once we identified the real problem, we could actually fix it.
First thing—we removed educational input on the drive home.
That became break time.
Not just silence—but intentional silence.
“Hey brain, we’re calming down now.”
Other options:
Drive home in silence
Sit in your car before going inside
Take a loop around the neighborhood
Check the mailbox
Put your phone down while you eat
Create a calmer lunch environment
Go to bed early midweek
Even one small change created a shift.
If you’re like, “This is me,” here’s what I want you to do:
Look at your patterns.
Where does it fall apart?
Dinner? Midweek? Weekend?
Then work backwards.
Where can you add a small reset?
Bathroom break → take a lap
Every 45 minutes → stand up
Drive home → silence
Before entering house → pause
These don’t need to be big.
They need to be consistent.
Your brain is already taking breaks.
It’s just choosing things like:
Food
Alcohol
Scrolling
Because it’s trying to help.
So instead, we give it a better option.
A real reset.
Something that actually restores you.
Self-care is not indulgent.
It is preventative.
If you don’t build it in, your brain will find a way.
And you probably won’t like what it picks.
So keep it simple:
3-minute reset
Deep breathing
Walking meditation
Music while doing chores
Lower the lights
Make your environment calmer
And use transitions.
Morning → work
Work → home
These are perfect opportunities to reset.
Even 90 seconds makes a difference.
If you think this is a discipline problem, it’s not.
It’s overload.
And once you start supporting your system, everything changes.
If you want more of this, we’re going deeper inside the membership.
May is all about self-care.
The first 30 days are free—you can try it, no obligation.
I think you’ll really like it.
Alright, I’ll talk to you guys next week. Bye.