Valentines Day When You Are Exhausted

Valentines Day can be a strange holiday when your nervous system is fried and your body is tired.

The messages we get are usually about big romantic gestures, perfectly curated evenings, and being “on” and lovable and available. But what if, this year, the bravest Valentine you give is to yourself?

I am a somatic trauma and anxiety therapist, and I also live with Lupus. I know what it is like to look like you are “doing great” on the outside while your body and mind are quietly falling apart on the inside.

This is a story about how I stopped asking, “What is wrong with me?” and started asking, “What happened to me?” and how that question changed everything about how I understand self love.

Lupus as the Teacher I Never Asked For

Lupus was not on my wish list. At first, it felt like a betrayal: my body, which I had relied on to push through, perform, and keep up with everyone else, suddenly had limits I did not approve of.

There were days of bone deep fatigue that no amount of coffee could touch, brain fog that made simple tasks feel like wading through mud, guilt and shame when I had to cancel plans again, and fear that I was becoming “too much” or “too needy.”

On the outside, I could still show up, smile, and perform. On the inside, my body was waving red flags and holding up neon signs that said:
This pace is not sustainable.

At first, I tried to manage my body like a difficult employee:

• Pushing through flares
• Ignoring signals
• Negotiating with pain and fatigue: “Just get me through today, I promise I will rest later.” (Spoiler: I did not rest later.)

What I did not realize then was that Lupus was acting as a very firm, very inconvenient teacher. It was saying,
You cannot live like this anymore.
I just did not want to hear it.

Depression, Anxiety, and Panic as Body Based “Nos”

Alongside Lupus, I have also had seasons of depression and intense anxiety. There were times when panic attacks became the only way my body could get my attention.

It took me a long time to see these not as evidence that I was broken, but as messages:

• Depression saying: “I have been carrying too much for too long.”
• Anxiety saying: “I do not feel safe, and I do not trust that anyone, including you, will protect me.”
• Panic attacks saying: “You are overshooting your capacity by miles, and I am pulling the emergency brake.”

If you are a high performing, people pleasing adult, you might know this pattern:

• You do not slow down unless you are forced to.
• You say yes when your whole body is screaming no.
• You take care of everyone else and then wonder why you feel resentful, exhausted, or numb.

It is not because you are weak. It is because, at some point, your nervous system learned that:

• Being “on” felt safer.
• Pleasing others meant love, or at least less conflict.
• Overriding your needs was how you survived.

From that lens, depression, anxiety, and even chronic symptoms can be seen as
body based “nos”
to a life that chronically ignores your limits.

The Compassionate Inquiry Pivot: From “What Is Wrong With Me?” to “What Happened To Me?”

Everything began to shift for me when I studied Compassionate Inquiry.

Instead of pathologizing my symptoms, Compassionate Inquiry invited a different question:

• Not “Why can I not just handle this like everyone else?”
• But “What happened to make my nervous system live like this?”

In this approach, we explore symptoms as
protective adaptations:

• The high performer who never stops, often protecting against feelings of worthlessness or fear of abandonment.
• The people pleaser who cannot say no, often protecting against conflict, rejection, or old, painful dynamics.
• The hypervigilant worrier, often protecting against environments where something bad could happen at any time.

Through this lens, my people pleasing and perfectionism were not character flaws; they were smart, loyal bodyguards that had been working overtime for years.

Compassionate Inquiry helped me hear these protective parts without shaming them, notice the
stories
they carried, such as “If you slow down, everything will fall apart” and “If you need help, you are a burden,” and gently question those stories in the present moment.

Self love stopped being a vague concept and became something very specific:
the capacity to stay with myself, especially when I am not performing well.

Illness, Perfectionism, and the Myth of Earning Rest

Chronic illness can intensify perfectionism in sneaky ways.

You might recognize some of these thoughts:

• “If I just manage my symptoms perfectly, I can still keep up.”
• “If I eat right, do the right protocol, and optimize my schedule, I will not have to slow down.”
• “If I am extra nice and reliable, no one will get frustrated that I am less available.”

I was trying to
outperform
my illness and my nervous system.

Instead of building a relationship with my body, I was trying to manage it, treating my body like a project, not a partner, measuring my worth by how productive or stable I looked, and waiting until everything crashed before giving myself permission to stop.

The turning point was not a magical healing moment. It was a slow, ongoing shift toward letting myself be less than perfect, letting other people show up for me, and learning to listen to my bodys early whispers, not just the screams.

Self love became less about liking myself and more about
not abandoning myself when I am messy, tired, or scared.

Self Love as Capacity: Staying With Yourself When You Are Not Performing

Here is how I define self love now, in a way that actually holds up in real life:

Self love is the capacity to stay with yourself, especially when you are not performing, not pleasing, and not at your best.

For me, that looks like noticing when a flare or wave of anxiety hits and not launching into self attack, letting myself say, “I cannot do that today,” even if someone is disappointed, and acknowledging that I still have parts that want to push, please, and perfect, and meeting them with curiosity instead of shame.

I do not have this perfectly figured out. There are days I still override my needs, still forget to ask my body how it feels about a decision, still try to earn my worth by doing more.

The difference now is that I notice it faster. I repair faster. And I am accountable for my own healing without attacking myself for not being “healed enough.”

If This Feels Familiar, You Are Not Alone

If you see yourself in these patterns, high performing, people pleasing, living with anxiety, depression, or trauma related chronic symptoms, you are not broken, and you do not have to navigate this alone.

To explore working together, please use the “Request Consultation” link at the top of this page to book a consultation call.

A Grounded Valentines Practice: A 5 Minute Somatic Check In

Here is a simple, real world practice you can try this Valentines Day, or any day. It is not glamorous, but it can be powerful when you repeat it.

Step 1: Pause and Arrive (1 minute)

Sit or lie down in a way that is as comfortable as possible. Let your eyes close or soften your gaze. Notice three points of contact with support, your feet on the ground, your back on the chair, your hands resting somewhere.

Let your exhale be just slightly longer than your inhale, without forcing it. Gently say to yourself:

“For these next few minutes, I am not performing. I am just here.”

Step 2: Ask Your Body, Not Your Schedule (2 minutes)

Ask yourself, slowly:

“Body, how are you actually doing right now?”

Then track, with curiosity:

• Any areas of tension, heaviness, buzzing, or numbness
• Your energy level on a scale of 0 to 10
• Your emotional weather: anxious, flat, sad, okay, relieved, and so on

See if you can notice without fixing, just for this moment. If any part of you says, “This is stupid,” or “We do not have time for this,” just notice that too. That is also a protective part.

Step 3: Offer a Tiny Act of Non Performance (2 minutes)

Ask:

“If I were not trying to impress, please, or perform right now, what is one tiny act of care I could offer myself today?”

Keep it small and realistic, such as:

• Leaving one thing undone on your to do list
• Saying no, or “not today,” to one request
• Lying down for 5 minutes without scrolling
• Letting your body cry for a moment without explaining why

Name it clearly:

“My Valentine to myself today is: [for example: not answering emails after 6pm].”

You do not have to love yourself to do this. You just have to be willing to not abandon yourself.

A Relational Boundary Script: A Promise to Myself

Here is a template you can adapt. You can write it out and fill in the blanks in your own words.

My Promise to Myself

This year, I am learning to stay with myself, even when I am not performing or pleasing.

I will listen when my body says no, even if my old patterns say, “Just push through.”

I will pause when:

• My chest tightens
• My stomach knots
• My energy crashes
• My mind starts racing to fix everyone else

Before I say yes to others, I will check in with myself:

• “Do I actually have the capacity for this?”
• “What does my body say?”

I give myself permission to:

• Disappoint others sometimes instead of constantly betraying myself
• Ask for help without labeling myself as a burden
• Be human, inconsistent, and in progress

When I slip back into overperforming or people pleasing, I will notice it without attacking myself.

I will ask:

• “What am I afraid will happen if I say no?”
• “What younger part of me is trying to stay safe right now?”

I am not broken; I am adapting. And I am willing to learn a different way.

You can read this aloud to yourself, even once a week, and notice how your body responds, tight, relaxed, skeptical, relieved. That response is information, not a judgment.

You Are Not Broken, and You Do Not Have To Do This Alone

If you are reading this and thinking, “This is me. I am the high performer who cannot slow down. I am the people pleaser whose body is starting to protest. I live with chronic symptoms and part of me still believes I just need to try harder,” I want you to know:

• You are not broken.
• There is a path.
• You do not have to figure it out by yourself.

This is the work I do with clients. I work online with people in California as a therapist, and I also offer coaching worldwide. Together, we:

• Gently explore what happened to you, not “what is wrong with you.”
• Honor your protective patterns, people pleasing, overworking, perfectionism, while helping you find new choices.
• Build a real relationship with your body, instead of just managing symptoms.
• Learn how to let support in, slowly, at a pace that feels safe enough.

Explore Working Together

If you are a high performing, people pleasing adult living with anxiety, depression, or trauma related chronic illness, and you are ready to live differently, I would be honored to support you.

To explore working together, please use the “Request Consultation” link at the top of this page to book a consultation call.

You do not have to have it all figured out to begin. You just have to be willing to pause, listen to your body, and let someone walk with you as you learn a new way.

— Shay, LCSW
Somatic Trauma and Anxiety Therapist