XO Samantha Jo

Tag: chronic illess

  • Why Slowing Down Changed How I Experience Time with Chronic Illness

    Time.

    Losing time has always been my biggest fear.

    When you live with chronic illness, time doesn’t feel abstract. It feels fragile. Limited. Unpredictable.
    Because there’s always that quiet question in the back of your mind:

    What if tomorrow I don’t have the stamina… or worse, the physical or mental ability… to do the thing I want so badly to do today?

    That fear used to control me.

    I was the definition of living for the moment—but not in the romantic, carefree way people imagine.
    It was urgency.
    It was pressure.
    It was reckless abandon fueled by the fear of losing time.

    So I rushed.

    I filled my life to the brim. I said yes to everything. I moved fast, constantly chasing experiences, trying to squeeze every drop out of the present before it disappeared.

    And the truth?

    I was doing so much… but rarely fully experiencing any of it.

    Slowing Down Didn’t Steal My Life—It Gave It Back

    Somewhere along the way, things shifted.

    My trips got slower.
    My days got quieter.
    My expectations softened.

    And somehow, my life became fuller.

    I still travel. I still chase fun and adventure. But now, I leave space—space to breathe, to notice, to actually feel what’s happening while it’s happening.

    For the first time, I’m not rushing through moments in the name of creating memories.

    I’m actually living them.

    The Lie of Urgency

    I used to think urgency meant intention.

    If my schedule was packed, if I was constantly moving, constantly doing—then I must be living life to the fullest… right?

    But urgency doesn’t create presence.
    It creates reactivity.

    It pushes you into rushed decisions, scattered thoughts, and moments that blur together.

    It even shows up in the way we love.
    Urgency will keep you in the wrong relationships—clinging to what isn’t right because you’re scared of starting over… and angry at the time you can’t get back.

    Slowing down taught me something I didn’t expect:

    You don’t build a meaningful life in the big, rushed moments.
    You build it in the quiet ones you almost overlook.

    What Actually Makes a Life Feel Full

    It’s not the packed itinerary.
    It’s not the constant motion.
    It’s not racing from one thing to the next because you’re afraid of running out of time.

    It’s this:

    A cup of iced coffee on a water taxi, the breeze catching your hair as you move between places you don’t feel rushed to get to.

    Laughing with your roommate until you’re crying, with no reason other than the moment itself.

    The “Joke of the Day” TikToks your seven-year-old goddaughter insists on making with you every single night.

    Messing around with your lifting buddies between sets, laughing more than you’re lifting.

    Stopping by your mom’s house for “just a minute” that turns into a hug you didn’t realize you needed.

    A random text from your dad that makes you laugh out loud.

    This Is What Time Is Made Of

    Those are the moments that make up a life.

    Not the rushed ones.
    Not the ones driven by fear.

    The slow ones.
    The intentional ones.
    The ones where you’re fully there.

    Because the truth is—time was never something we could control.

    Not before chronic illness.
    Not after.

    But what we can control is how we move through it.

    And that includes the places we choose to stay.

    The conversations we keep having.
    The relationships we keep holding onto.
    The lives we convince ourselves we don’t have time to rebuild.

    Because I’m finally learning this too:

    You don’t get more time by clinging to what isn’t right.
    You just lose more of it.

    And I’m done living like time is something I have to chase or fight to keep.

    I want to be present in it.
    Intentional with it.
    Honest about where I’m spending it.

    Because you don’t honor time by racing against it.

    You honor it by choosing—again and again—to fully live inside of it.

    XO,

    Samantha Jo

  • How I Still Show Up for My Life (Even on Bad Days)

    Not every day is a good day.

    But I still have a life to live—and a pretty full, abundant one at that.

    I refuse to waste time if I can help it. So this is how I show up for my life, even on the bad days.

    Lowering the Bar (On Purpose)

    I intentionally schedule at least one bare-minimum day into my week.

    Sometimes that means rearranging my gym schedule. Sometimes it means saying no to weekend plans.

    FOMO is real—and my social group is, well… extremely social.

    But I had to set a boundary with myself.

    If I want to keep showing up for my life—and for the people in it—then sometimes that means not showing up and missing out.

    That doesn’t mean I say no to everything. But I don’t jam-pack my weeks and weekends anymore.

    I remind myself that my gas tank is smaller than everyone else’s.

    And that means I have to refuel more often.

    I’ve also had to completely redefine what productivity means to me.

    A typically healthy person might be able to shower, do dishes, do laundry, work for a few hours, vacuum, and then go out to dinner.

    That’s just not my reality anymore.

    And if I do manage to do all of that?

    I’m probably going to be in bed the entire next day, completely wiped out.

    So now, productivity might look like this:

    • I got the essential laundry done—but the rest can wait
    • The trash got taken out—but vacuuming isn’t happening today

    And I’ve had to be okay with the fact that my version of productivity doesn’t look like everyone else’s.

    My Non-Negotiables

    There are days where I wake up and my energy is already gone.

    Completely spent and I haven’t even gotten out of bed yet.

    But I do have non-negotiables:

    Going to work
    Drinking water
    Eating something
    Basic hygiene

    On bad days, that might not look perfect.

    I might not eat a full meal—but I’ll drink electrolytes and get some protein in.

    I might not take an “everything shower”—but I’ll handle the basics.

    And some days, the basics are all I can do.

    My life is not Pinterest-perfect.

    This is what it actually looks like.

    Energy Strategy

    I’ve built my life around conserving energy wherever I can.

    Some of these things might seem small—but saving even ten minutes of effort or frustration can mean having energy for something that actually matters later.

    I get my eyelashes done so I don’t have to spend time and energy on mascara every morning. It’s a small thing, but it helps me feel put together with less effort.

    The peace of not having to deal with waiting for it to dry, or the frustration of it smearing everywhere while I’m already tired and running late is priceless to me.

    I do grocery pickup at a store near my gym so I can knock both things out without draining myself walking around a store.

    And sometimes? I’ll drop off laundry for wash-and-fold.

    I don’t do that all the time—but when I know I need that energy for something else, I’m not above paying for convenience.

    Simplifying my life like this allows me to spend my energy on things that actually make my life fuller and happier.

    I know not everyone has access to these options—but for me, it’s about prioritizing anything that makes life easier, not harder.

    Letting Go of Perfection

    Showing up for my life also means letting go of perfection.

    Not every workout is going to be great.
    Not every day is going to be productive.
    My house isn’t always going to be clean.
    My laundry isn’t always going to be folded.

    And that has to be okay.

    My life is not going to look like everyone else’s.

    And I have to keep reminding myself of that.

    And honestly?

    That’s okay too.

    Small Wins

    I’ve learned to celebrate the small wins.

    Showing up to the gym when I really don’t feel like it—and leaving feeling even just a little bit better.

    Getting out of bed and going to work with a smile on my face, even when it’s the last thing I feel like doing.

    Choosing myself—even when the people-pleaser in me wants to say yes to everyone else.

    Those things matter.

    Those are wins.

    And some days, I have to remind myself:

    Showing up is the win.

    This is my life.

    And not every day is Instagram-worthy.

    It might not look impressive—but it’s real.

    And it counts.

    XO,
    Samantha Jo