From Gratitude to Integration

How We Rebuild After Holding Our Breath

Part two of a two-part essay on uncertainty, relief, and what comes after.

January is full of talk about change. New year. New habits. New goals. New versions of ourselves. People everywhere are making resolutions, creating vision boards, and starting journaling practices. This collective forward momentum assumes a clean break from the old year and a desire to begin again.

But personal transitions don’t always follow the calendar. Sometimes, the most significant shift happens before the new year even begins, when a long period of waiting ends and the news is good. For me, that moment came in mid-December. After weeks of uncertainty, I received an early Christmas gift: the reassurance I’d been hoping for. In the end, everything was fine.

Yet for the first few weeks that followed this good news, I didn’t feel restored or reset. I felt oddly unmoored. I came down with some sort of respiratory bug, and I moved through my days with a low-grade exhaustion that was hard to explain. At the same time, I poured what energy I had into my work, finishing projects and clearing my to-do list in time to ring in the new year. Nevertheless, even though I was extremely productive, focused, and driven, my body was clearly asking me to slow down.

Looking back, I think part of that drive came from a need to catch up. During that long stretch of uncertainty, so much time and energy had been absorbed by thinking, worrying, and preparing. Even when I wasn’t actively doing anything, the waiting itself was exhausting. Once that period ended, it felt almost urgent to reclaim the time I’d lost, to move quickly and decisively, as if forward motion could compensate for the pause that came before it.

But relief doesn’t immediately restore the body after a prolonged period of stress. When we spend weeks bracing ourselves and anticipating outcomes, the nervous system stays on high alert. Even after the waiting ends and the news is good, the mind may register the information immediately, but the body doesn’t simply reset. The nervous system needs time to recalibrate, to heal from sustained stress, and to recognize that it’s safe to rest. Relief doesn’t erase the cost of stress. But if relief doesn’t automatically bring rest, the question becomes: what actually helps us slow down internally and re-enter our lives more gently?

Last month, I wrote about gratitude as a coping practice during a period of uncertainty while waiting for medical news that would determine my path forward. Gratitude helped steady me while I was waiting. And while it’s still something I repeatedly return to, once that uncertainty was over, the questions shifted. They became less about coping and more about integration. That’s where affirmations can be helpful.

Affirmations are often thought of as tools for change, motivation, or self-improvement, something we use when we want to become better, stronger, more disciplined, or more productive. But affirmations don’t always need to point us forward. Sometimes, their role is simply to help the nervous system calm down after a prolonged period of stress.

Used this way, affirmations aren’t aspirational. They’re regulatory. They give language to what the body needs but may not yet fully trust. They sound less like motivation and more like reassurance. Statements such as “I don’t need to stay on alert anymore” acknowledge that the waiting is over. “I inhale peace and exhale anxiety” reflects a gradual release of vigilance, whether understood metaphorically, through breathwork, or both. Together, they reinforce safety, permission, and pacing. They help bridge the gap between knowing we’re fine and feeling that it’s actually safe to release the stress and stop worrying.

One tangible way to carry that reassurance into daily life is through an affirmation card. Writing a single, supportive phrase on a card can be enough. Something that reflects what is now true, not what still needs to happen. A reminder you can return to when old habits of worry resurface.

Creating the card itself can be part of the practice. Choosing words that resonate, or decorating it in a way that feels meaningful or simply pleasing. Both the act of making it and the act of returning to it can serve as gentle reminders, not to push yourself forward, but to allow the urgency to pass.

These small practices, whether gratitude during uncertainty or affirmations during recovery, are tools I use both personally and in my work with women navigating menopause and midlife transitions. If these topics resonated with you and you'd like to explore how these approaches might support your own wellness journey, you're welcome to schedule a free discovery call. And if you’d like articles like this delivered straight to your inbox each month, sign up for my free newsletter.

The information in this article is intended for educational purposes only and is not a substitute for medical advice. Nothing in this article is intended to diagnose, treat, prevent, or cure any disease. Always consult with your healthcare provider before making any dietary, lifestyle, or supplement changes, and do not forego, delay or disregard medical advice based on the content shared in this article. Please consider your personal situation and individual needs and do your own research.