THE FIBROMATES JOURNAL

by Irene Roth-Blog Editor-Freelance Writer

Body awareness is powerful—but it can go two ways. For some people, noticing the body becomes a form of scanning for danger: What’s hurting now? What symptom is next? That kind of awareness can increase anxiety and make the body feel even less safe. The goal isn’t just awareness. The goal is awareness with kindness—because kindness changes what awareness does inside you.

Self-kindness is not pretending you feel fine. It’s telling the truth with gentleness. It’s the difference between saying, “I’m falling apart” and saying, “I’m having a hard day, and I deserve care.” When you pair body awareness with self-kindness, your nervous system receives a different message: You are not alone in this. I’m here with you. That message matters because the body often responds not only to what’s happening, but to how we relate to what’s happening.

Start by noticing how you talk to yourself when symptoms show up. Many of us use harsh language without realizing it: This is ridiculous. I can’t do anything. I’m so weak. That inner commentary becomes a second layer of pain. It tightens the body, increases stress hormones, and drains emotional energy. Self-kindness interrupts that cycle by changing the tone of your inner relationship—from criticism to care.

Try this three-step practice: Notice – Name – Nurture.

• Notice: What is happening in my body right now?
• Name: What might I be feeling—physically and emotionally? (tired, overwhelmed, tense, tender)
• Nurture: What is one kind response I can offer?

The nurture step is where self-love becomes practical. Kindness might look like pacing your day, sitting down sooner, choosing simpler meals, texting someone for support, or giving yourself permission to cancel what’s nonessential. It can also look like speaking kindly: Of course this feels hard. I’m doing the best I can. Even a small shift in language—This is difficult instead of This is hopeless—can soften your body’s stress response.

It also helps to widen your awareness beyond symptoms. Ask, What feels even 5% better right now? Maybe it’s a warm mug in your hands, a softer light in the room, a comfortable blanket, or a slower breath. When you notice comfort alongside discomfort, you teach your nervous system that you are safe enough to keep going. This isn’t ignoring pain; it’s balancing your attention so pain doesn’t become the only headline.

Body awareness can also guide boundaries. If your shoulders rise every time you talk to a certain person, that’s information. If your stomach drops when you say yes too quickly, that’s information. Self-kindness means you take that information seriously. You don’t override yourself to keep everyone else comfortable. Instead, you respond with a boundary that protects your body’s peace.

One of the most healing forms of self-kindness is micro-rest. Not a full nap—just 60 seconds of softening. Unclench the jaw. Drop the shoulders. Exhale longer than you inhale. Place a hand on your chest and remind yourself: I can slow down. These tiny acts tell your body it doesn’t have to stay on high alert.

Over time, turning awareness into kindness builds self-trust. You begin to believe your body’s signals instead of arguing with them. You learn that support is not something you earn; it’s something you give yourself because you matter. And that changes everything. Awareness becomes less about fear and more about guidance—your body’s messages translated into daily compassion.

by Shelley Taylor, Guest Blogger

With only my cat in my daily life (and she gets lots of love), the onus is on me to show myself the love and respect I deserve. As often as I try to honour my battered body and foggy mind, I still recognize how unkind I am to her at times.

Self-judgment and self-loathing arise when I self-sabotage. I’m learning to forgive myself for my weaknesses and let it be. Try harder tomorrow—no self-recriminations; instead, a softer, more tender acknowledgment of my inner child. Staying quiet and just loving her as she cries for attention.

I’ve been on a spectacular journey for the past few months, doing much of the “self-work” and healing from past traumas—slaying dragons, or in some cases, recognizing they’re no longer threats and that I can blow them away like dust bunnies collected in the crevices of my mind.

That “work” is allowing me to shift into the persona I now am—the little old lady; the Crone! My inner child is finally growing up and meeting me at my current age of 70 (almost 71)!

I’m a little old lady with a complicated health condition, and as uncomfortable as that may be, I’m happy here—being authentic and true to myself and others. Not hiding my weaknesses or spending spoons to rally through upheavals. I’m being mindful and content, accepting myself and all my foibles and frustrations…

and loving myself.

By Irene Roth/Blog Editor-Freelance Writer

Many of us were taught to distrust our bodies. We’ve been told to ignore signals, push through discomfort, and measure our worth by productivity. Over time, that creates a painful split: the mind becomes the boss, and the body becomes the burden. But what if the body isn’t the problem? What if the body is a wise ally—trying, again and again, to bring you back to balance?

Your body is constantly communicating. Hunger, thirst, tension, fatigue, restlessness, calm—these are messages. Even symptoms that feel inconvenient can be the body’s attempt to protect you. The inner healer isn’t a magical fix; it’s your built-in capacity to regulate, recover, and return to steadiness when you support it. Trusting that inner healer begins with respect—and with the decision to stop treating your signals like interruptions.

Self-love is the bridge between awareness and trust. When you practice self-love, you stop treating your body like a machine and start treating it like a living system with needs, limits, and seasons. You begin to notice patterns: certain foods that increase inflammation, certain stressors that tighten the chest, certain environments that drain you, certain routines that soothe you. That noticing is wisdom. It’s also empowerment, because once you see patterns, you can respond sooner—before your body has to “shout.”

To trust your inner healer, you don’t need perfect intuition. You need a relationship with your body that is consistent and kind. Think of it like building trust with a friend: you show up, you listen, you respond. Over time, your body starts to “believe” you. It stops bracing so hard. It softens in small ways. It becomes easier to sense what helps. You may even notice that your body gives you earlier, gentler signals—small nudges instead of big warnings—because you’re finally paying attention.

A simple practice: ask your body three questions each day:

• What do you need more of? (rest, water, movement, quiet, connection)
• What do you need less of? (noise, rushing, screen time, people-pleasing)
• What would feel supportive right now?

Then choose one supportive action. It might be a warm drink, a slower morning, a short walk, a stretch, a boundary, or a nap. Your inner healer speaks through these small adjustments. And it helps to keep your promises small and doable—because every time you follow through, trust grows. In that way, self-love becomes a practice of reliability: I will not ignore you. I will not punish you. I will respond.

Trust also means releasing the idea that healing must look dramatic. Sometimes healing looks like fewer crashes. Sometimes it looks like recovering faster. Sometimes it looks like a calmer nervous system, better sleep, and less fear around symptoms. The body’s wisdom is often quiet, not flashy—and it often unfolds in ordinary choices repeated over time.

When you approach your body with self-love, you stop asking, How do I force this to stop? and start asking, How do I support myself through this? That is the beginning of real partnership. And in that partnership, the inner healer becomes less of a concept and more of a lived experience—one gentle choice at a time.