We live in a world that teaches us how to push through like how to hustle, override, and silence our bodies in pursuit of productivity. We learn from a young age to suppress yawns, ignore hunger cues, and move faster than our natural pace. Somewhere along the way, being in tune with ourselves stopped being a necessity and became something we had to relearn– as if we’d forgotten the sacred language of our own being.
But the truth is, your body has never stopped speaking to you. It whispers in waves, in tight shoulders, in the ways your eyes grow heavy before sunset. It speaks in cravings and fatigue, in spontaneous tears, in the sudden urge to move, stretch, or be held. Learning to listen is not about perfecting a wellness routine or achieving some curated state of balance- it’s about returning. Softening. Paying attention. Remembering the rhythm you were born with.
For a long time, I didn’t realize I was treating my body like a machine. I judged it for needing rest. I fed it only when it was convenient. I measured my worth by how much I could ignore its discomfort. But over time, that disconnection turned into louder signals- burnout, pain, mood swings, cycles that made no sense. It wasn’t until I stopped trying to control every sensation and started getting curious about them that I began to feel human again. Alive, even.
Listening to your body doesn’t mean you’ll always get it “right.” Some days, you’ll misread the cues. You might eat past fullness or mistake stress for hunger. That’s okay. The point isn’t to master your body- it’s to build a relationship with it. One rooted in tenderness and trust.
You might notice how your body feels around certain people. Do your shoulders tense? Does your stomach knot or your breathing become shallow? Or maybe you feel energized, calm, expansive. These sensations are real. They are your body’s ways of guiding you, long before your mind can piece things together. It’s a kind of inner compass, not always logical, but always honest.
When you allow yourself to slow down, you’ll feel the subtle beauty enough to notice what your body is asking for in each moment. Maybe today it’s needs gentle movement, not intensity. Maybe it’s thirsty for water or connection or stillness. Maybe it doesn’t need another goal. It needs a nap, gentleness, a walk outside. Maybe it’s not lazy or broken, but tired from all the ways it’s been ignored.
As woman especially, we’re often taught to perform wellness rather than embody it. To follow rigid rules and trends instead of exploring what actually feels good. But there’s so much freedom in creating a version of health that is intuitive, flexible, and rooted in self-awareness. When you allow yourself body to be your guide rather than your enemy, things begin to shift. Food becomes nourishment instead of control. Movement becomes celebration instead of punishment. Rest becomes sacred instead of indulgent.
This journey isn’t about perfection. It’s about presence. It’s about catching yourself in the act of disconnection and gently choosing to return. To ask: What am I feeling right now? What might my body be trying to say?
And even more importantly: Can I listen without judgment? Can I respond with compassion?
For me, that shift happened slowly. It started with paying attention to hunger, not just at mealtimes, but at odd hours when I had trained myself to wait. It deepened when I started honoring my cycle- recognizing the ways my energy ebbed and flowed with the moon, the month, the seasons. Some days I’m a fire. Other days I’m mist. I’m leaning to stop shaming myself for not being a constant blaze.
Listening to your body means letting go of the belief that you always have to be “on.” It means allowing rest, softness, pleasure, and slowness to coexist with ambition, strength, and focus. Your body is not a machine- it’s a living, breathing story. And like all good stories, it deserves to be heard.
Sometimes, listening looks like choosing foods that make you feel grounded. Other times, it’s setting boundaries that protect your peace. Sometimes it means letting the tears fall when they come, without needing to explain them. Sometimes it means dancing in the kitchen just because you feel like it. There’s no one way to be in sync with your body. There’s only your way- and it unfolds day by day.
There’s a kind of sensuality in the practice, too. A deep kind of intimacy that builds when you treat your body like a beloved. Someone who’s worth listening to, someone you adore even in their messiness. You begin to notice how your skin reacts to different fabrics, how your mood changes after a walk in nature, how your breath slows when you’re safe. These little details hold truth. They’re clues. Gifts.
The body is wise. Not perfect, but wise. It remembers everything- what you’ve survived what you’ve suppressed, what you long for. Sometimes it’s messages are clear. Other times they’re confusing or inconvenient. But they’re always meaningful. And the more you listen, the more it trusts you back.
If you’ve spent years ignoring your body, please know: it’s never too late to rebuild the relationship. You don’t need to do it all at once. You don’t need a wellness overhaul or a perfect morning routine. You just need a moment. A pause. A breath. One simple act of noticing.
Start with the next glass of water, the next stretch, the next bite of food. Start with noticing how you feel when you wake up or how your chest tightens when you lie. Let those tiny moments be the start of something sacred: a lifelong practice of coming home to yourself.
This isn’t about control. It’s about connection. It’s about rewriting the story you’ve been told- that your body is too much, too complicated, or not enough. It is enough. It always was. All it wants is your presence.
So soften into it. The language of the body is tender, but clear. You were born fluent in it. All you’re doing now is remembering.
Xo, Lana
Lanalefay 