What April Taught Me

What April Taught Me

May is a new month. My planner has a section after each month that suggests you review your previous month before planning your next. That way you can see what you’ve done well and where you can improve. Makes sense! Well, I hadn’t done this exercise in a couple of months, so I decided to really evaluate the month of April. Here are a few things I’ve learned.

1. I am a lot more stressed than I realize.

I’m not talking about the things we think when someone says they are stressed. I’m referring to my internal health. My Apple Watch (yes, I know it’s not 100% accurate, but it gives you a pretty good guess) says that my HRV is extremely low. That is the amount of milliseconds between your heartbeats. The higher the number, the better your heart and body handles stress. My readings indicate my average HRV is somewhere in the low 20s. Ideal range for someone my age is between 30-60ms. When I see this, I try to figure out why—especially on days when I feel like I’ve had a pretty chill day. Well, I realized in addition to my hectic unpredictable schedule, somehow chaos seems to find me in the most inopportune moments.

For example: I’m getting ready for work one morning—brushing my teeth—and as I’m brushing, I hear the Facebook Messenger notification. I look down and immediately get excited. It was the girlfriend! My thought was—ooooo he messed up BAD, because why else would she be reaching out to me??? But the thing you have to catch here is that I was excited for whatever was going to come next. Super healthy for someone trying to improve their HRV…..

What did come next was something magical. Our conversation was restoring. She was validating my feelings from a place no one else could.

It’s one thing to know that others know what your ex-husband is saying about you isn’t true. But it’s another thing entirely to experience a relationship with him intimately, and feel the same level of betrayal that I did. What’s worse is that I was with him for 18 years. She was with him for a fraction of that time, and she experienced almost everything I did. 

At the end of our conversation, she said she was going to leave him—especially since I confirmed some of her suspicions by giving her my perspective on what happened while I was married to him. I don’t know if she followed through with that or not, but it felt good to feel like justice had been served cold to someone who actually deserved it. I don’t even care if I never find out the outcome of their relationship—the conversation alone was enough for me.

Even though that was a bolster to my confidence, it was still a stressful moment. I have a lot of these types of moments at work, with my kids, and with family. Even good stress can be hard on your body when you are working from such a poor baseline.

2. I put too much pressure on myself.

You may have noticed that I haven’t been posting every week like normal. Well, in addition to bringing attention to the areas where I might be inviting stress, I’ve realized that my ego likes to dictate how I move in my life.

At work, when something doesn’t go as I thought it would, I immediately start feeling like I’m a fraud. Or a child trapped in a woman’s body. My ego yells at me that I should be further along in my career than where I am right now. I hate feeling like I’ve just gotten started because I was capable of accomplishing more when I was younger and just didn’t. I could blame a lot of that on the constructs of my marriage, but I have to take responsibility also. I didn’t have to allow or accept half the things that were done to me.

With writing, just like it is with running, if I don’t come out the gate hard and fast, then I feel like I’m not really putting in effort. Almost like I expect myself to be a pro from the start. But what I am slowly learning to accept is the concept of slow and steady wins the race is a real thing. I can either run really hard and really fast for 1 mile, or I can run slowly for 20 miles. My ultimate goal is longevity. I want to be able to do this in my 70’s, which means I have to learn how to pace myself for the marathon, not the sprint. Same thing with writing. If I want to write a book one day (and I do), I will need to learn that discipline can also look like intentionally looking up from the pages and experiencing life in real time.

3. I’m getting closer to 40.

Of course, I didn’t just realize that I am getting closer to 40. What I am learning is how to care for my body at this age because it looks totally different from how I took care of myself in my 20s. I am also learning that my life experiences are valid! They deserve to be used in my individual operating reality. My gut feelings have evolved. My critical thinking brain has strength. I am a master at resourcefulness. All of those things make me relevant. They are the key to unlock whatever room I want to be in. They are my whisper song to the lover I will invite into my life when he is ready. They are how I raise my children. They are the formula I use to protect my peace and show myself love. They give me the power to say no. I am the sole decision-maker in discovering ways to present myself and how I want to show up in the world.

If I decide that I want to be a marathon runner who loves puzzling, reading books, live music, traveling, art, movies, adventures, and is also an author—I can start making small choices that lead to that persona now. I am already the person I want to become. I just have to start living like it.

Every month, I do some form of an evaluation, and every month I get more and more intentional about what I’m evaluating. I get strategic about how and what goals I set.

Healing isn’t linear, and it doesn’t have a final destination. But what I’m starting to understand is that growth requires reflection. It requires me to slow down long enough to actually see myself—where I’ve been, what I’ve carried, and what I’m ready to change.

This month showed me that I’m more stressed than I realized, harder on myself than I need to be, and stronger than I give myself credit for. And that awareness alone gives me something I didn’t have before—direction.

So as I step into May, I’m not chasing perfection. I’m choosing intention. Small shifts. Better awareness. A little more grace.

And if I keep doing that—month after month—I won’t just be healing. I’ll be building a life that actually feels good to live.