Coming Back to Yourself

By Kathryn Arbic, RMT
Registered Massage Therapist | ART® Certified Provider
Doctor of Veterinary Medicine (DVM)
Master of Arts in Counselling Psychology — Candidate, Yorkville University

What happens when we slow down enough to notice what is happening inside us?

Most of us spend a surprising amount of time responding to what is happening around us. Work needs our attention. Family needs something. Messages need answering. Appointments need scheduling. There is always another task, another responsibility or another person who needs something from us.

Over time, it can become surprisingly easy to lose touch with the quieter question underneath all of it: How am I, actually?

Not how is work going, or how is everyone else doing, or what needs to get done today. How am I?

For some people, that question is surprisingly difficult to answer.

We can become very good at being someone

Our lives are full of roles. We might be a parent, partner, friend, caregiver, professional, business owner, student, athlete, daughter, son, colleague or leader. Each role carries expectations, and most of us move between them without giving much thought to what happens inside us as we do.

There is nothing wrong with having many roles. They can give our lives meaning, purpose and connection. The challenge comes when we spend so much of our time responding to external demands that our own internal experience becomes harder to notice.

We may know what everyone else needs before we know what we need. We may be able to explain what we should do without knowing what we actually want. We may recognize that we're exhausted only when we finally stop.

And sometimes, when someone asks, “What do you need?”, the honest answer is simply, “I don't know.”

That doesn't mean something is wrong with you. It may mean you haven't had much practice listening.

The body can be a place to begin

One way of reconnecting with ourselves is through the body. Not because every physical sensation contains a hidden message or because the body can explain everything happening in our lives, but because the body gives us another source of information—one that is often quieter and more immediate than our thoughts.

We can notice our breathing, the contact of our feet with the floor, whether our shoulders feel relaxed or braced, whether we feel drawn toward something or want to pull away. We might notice feeling energized, tired, restless, heavy, open or constricted.

This kind of awareness is sometimes described as interoception, our ability to sense and interpret signals arising from within the body. Developing interoceptive awareness isn't about becoming hyperfocused on every sensation. It’s about becoming more familiar with our internal experience and learning to notice what is happening before automatically moving on or trying to fix it.

Instead of immediately asking, “How do I get rid of this feeling?”, we might become curious about it. What am I noticing? Where do I feel it? Does it change when I slow down? What happens if I stay with the experience for a moment without deciding what it means?

Curiosity changes the relationship

There is an important difference between observing ourselves and judging ourselves.

“Why am I so anxious?” can quickly become “What's wrong with me?” “Why can't I relax?” can become another thing we believe we're failing at.

Curiosity offers another possibility. We can notice that we become tense when we think about something, that we feel different around a particular person, that we keep saying yes when part of us wants to say no, or that we feel most like ourselves in certain environments or activities.

We don't necessarily need to do anything with that information immediately.

Sometimes simply noticing creates enough space for something new to become possible.

What happens when we slow down?

Slowing down can be surprisingly uncomfortable. When we're constantly moving, thinking and doing, there isn't much opportunity to notice what exists underneath the activity. When things become quiet, we may encounter fatigue, emotion, restlessness or thoughts we've been too busy to hear.

That doesn't mean difficult feelings are waiting underneath every busy life. It simply means that stillness gives us different information than constant activity does.

Sometimes that information is important. We might discover that something we thought we wanted no longer fits, that a relationship feels different than it used to, or that we've been putting far more pressure on ourselves than we realized.

Other times, what we discover is much simpler. We might realize that we love walking outside, making something with our hands, moving our body, laughing with a particular person or having an hour with absolutely nothing planned.

Coming back to yourself isn't always about uncovering something profound. Sometimes it is simply remembering what feels good.

You don't have to turn self-awareness into another project

There is a tendency to turn self-awareness into another thing we need to become good at. We track our habits, optimize our routines, set goals, monitor our nervous systems and try to become more mindful, regulated, productive and emotionally intelligent.

Even self-care can become something we feel we have to perform correctly.

But awareness doesn't always need to lead immediately to improvement.

You might notice that you're tired, angry, excited or disconnected. You might notice that you don't know what you feel yet. All of those experiences are information, and none of them necessarily requires an immediate action plan.

Sometimes the most useful thing we can do is allow ourselves to notice without immediately trying to change.

Making room for the person underneath the roles

Coming back to yourself isn't about abandoning your responsibilities or becoming a different person. It is about making enough room to remember that you are more than the roles you perform.

There is a person underneath the professional, the parent, the partner, the caregiver, the high achiever and the dependable one. That person has preferences, sensations, emotions, curiosity, boundaries, desires and needs.

Sometimes we lose touch with those things simply because life gets busy. Sometimes we lose touch because we've spent a long time adapting to what other people need. And sometimes being useful, productive or needed has become such an important part of our identity that it becomes difficult to know who we are when nobody needs anything from us.

Coming back doesn't require a dramatic life change. It might begin with five quiet minutes, a walk without your phone, a few slow movements or writing down what you notice before deciding what it means. It might mean asking yourself what you need and allowing the answer to be something other than “I should be doing more.”

Coming back to yourself is less about finding the right answer and more about becoming familiar with yourself again.

A practice in coming back

The next time you have a quiet moment, try asking yourself a few questions without trying to produce the right answer.

What am I noticing in my body right now? What feels easy and what feels effortful? What might I be needing that I haven't acknowledged? What has been giving me energy lately? Where do I feel most like myself?

You don't have to solve anything. The purpose is simply to notice.

Reconnecting with yourself isn't necessarily about finding an answer. Sometimes it is about becoming comfortable enough with the questions so you can hear what emerges.

A relationship with yourself

Coming back to yourself is ultimately a practice of relationship: a relationship with your body, your emotions, your needs and your own experience.

You may not always be able to change what is happening around you. There will always be responsibilities, expectations and people who need something from you. But you can begin creating moments where you are present enough to notice what is happening within you.

And sometimes, that is where change begins.

Keep exploring

If this idea resonates with you, you might also explore When Competence Becomes Camouflage, which looks at what happens when responsibility, resilience and the ability to keep functioning become so deeply ingrained that we stop noticing how much we are carrying.

You may also be interested in Why Am I So Tight?, which explores the many factors that can contribute to persistent physical tension and invites a more curious relationship with the body's signals.

© 2026 Kathryn Arbic / Callisto Therapeutics. All rights reserved. Ottawa-Carleton Place, Ontario, Canada.