The world is full of uncertainty. It always has been, but the past five years have driven that lesson home in ways I never expected.

I don't like uncertainty. I don't know anyone who really does. I'm a planner. I like knowing what's coming so I can prepare for it. But right now? Everything feels like it's shifting constantly: politically, economically, socially, technologically. It's hard to plan from day to day, let alone weeks or months from now.

Let yourself feel your feelings. All of them, not just the "good" ones.

This sounds obvious, but I spent years ignoring it. I pushed my feelings down, stuffed them, pretended they weren't there. And eventually? They exploded out of me.

I'd blow up over minor, inconsequential things and have no idea why my reaction was so intense. Turns out, when you shove your feelings down long enough, they don't disappear. They just wait.

I'm a lifelong learner. When something sparks my interest, I dive in headfirst reading, researching, absorbing everything I can. Knowledge energizes me. Sharing what I learn with others lights me up.

But here's the thing I've had to face: I love learning new information. I hate being a beginner at actually doing it.

I'm the helper. Always have been. I jump in when my husband needs something, when friends are struggling, when chaos hits. I pride myself on being reliable, self-reliant, and independent. Asking for help? That's not part of my identity.

Then I had no choice.

Quick question: What brings you joy?

If you struggled to answer that, you're not alone. When we're overstressed, it's easy to identify what's draining us. But what lifts us up? That's harder to see when all our attention is consumed by stress.

Sometimes we genuinely don't know what we enjoy. We're so focused on everyone else that we can't answer a simple question: What do I like?

Here's the thing about stress: everyone around you can see it except you.

I've been there countless times—in the middle of a stressful period, completely denying I was stressed. People close to me could see it clearly. I was either too deep in it to notice or too ashamed to admit it.

Let me ask you something:

Have you cried in your car after work? Felt so emotionally drained you questioned your entire career? Wondered where your passion went? Laid awake wondering how you can possibly keep doing this and stay sane?

When I first heard about "self-care," I pictured bubble baths and wine nights with friends. I thought I had it covered. Turns out, I was missing the point entirely.

Your body can't tell the difference between a predator attack and a stressful email. That's the problem.

When stress gets unbearable, we run. Most of the time, we don't even realize we're doing it. Or we rationalize it: "I work hard, I deserve this!"

The running looks like: overeating, drinking too much, smoking, overworking, endless scrolling, constant phone checking, shopping for things we don't need, zoning out to TV for hours, going out to eat constantly, gambling. Insert your favorite vice here.

We all have an inner critic. Mine can be vicious. Sometimes she has valid points I can learn from. The trick is knowing when she's being helpful versus when she's just holding me back.