Lamia's Coaching

I’m not setting goals yet.

Not because I don’t care.
Not because I’ve given up.
Not because I’m afraid of wanting things.

But because this year asked me to slow down in ways I didn’t choose.

There was change.
There were moments where simply staying present with what was took more energy than planning what could be.

And I’ve learned this the hard way:
When I rush into goal-setting before I’ve actually listened to myself,
my goals stop being supportive.
They become another form of pressure.

Another quiet way of saying:
“Get it together.”
“Move on already.”
“Be productive again.”

Right now, that doesn’t feel honest.

What I need before goals is orientation.
I need to notice what’s tender.
What feels heavy.
What feels surprisingly steady.
What I’m still carrying that I haven’t named yet.

I’m letting myself be in that space without demanding clarity from it.

Because clarity that’s forced isn’t clarity.
It’s compliance.

We’re taught that January is about answers.
But sometimes it’s about asking better questions.
Or not asking anything at all.

So instead of goals, I’m paying attention.

To my energy.
To my capacity.
To what feels like relief instead of “growth.”
To what I’m no longer willing to push through.

Goals can come later.
When they’re shaped by honesty instead of urgency.
When they feel like an invitation, not a verdict.

If you’re not ready to set goals yet,
you’re not behind.

You might just be listening.
And that matters more than we’re taught to believe. 🩷

My goals didn’t fail this year. They just changed shape.

This year didn’t move the way I planned.
Some intentions softened.
Some timelines stretched.
Some goals quietly stepped aside so something else could take their place.

Not because I gave up.
Not because I wasn’t disciplined enough.
But because life asked for flexibility instead of force.

We’re taught to review a year like a performance report.
What worked.
What didn’t.
What to fix.

But sometimes the most honest reflection is this:
What did I need instead?

If your year looks different than what you imagined,
that doesn’t mean it was wasted.

It might mean you adapted.
It might mean you survived.
It might mean you listened.

And that counts more than we’re taught to believe 🩷

I have been quiet, and that’s part of the story.

This year came with change, grief, and a lot of reorientation, personally and professionally.
Some goals didn’t happen.
Some plans fell apart.
And some things grew that I never planned for at all.

I’m not here to turn that into a failure story.

I’m here to name what’s real: sometimes being quiet is how we survive, process, and listen.

I’m easing back in with honesty, compassion, and less pressure to perform.

If this year held grief for you too, you are not alone 🩷


TheNourishedProfessional

Slowing down doesn’t mean you’re falling behind.

But it can feel that way, especially when you are used to measuring your worth by how much you get done.

We’ve been taught that rest is risky.
That if we stop, we’ll lose momentum.
That doing less means we’re lazy, weak, or wasting time.
That if we stop tracking, pushing, or performing, everything will fall apart.

This shows up around food too.
The fear of slowing down to eat.
The fear of fullness.
The fear of not “managing” your body.

So we stay in motion, overworking, overthinking, overriding our needs.
Even when we’re exhausted, tired, numb, or on autopilot.

But here’s the truth: that urgency?
It’s not coming from your body.
It’s coming from hustle culture, diet culture, and systems that benefit when you ignore your limits.

Instead, what I practice and guide through is this:
Your value isn’t in your output.
You don’t have to earn stillness.
You can slow down and still trust yourself.
With food.
With movement.
With your body.
With your time.
Rest isn’t the opposite of growth.
It’s part of it.

When you slow down on purpose, you can hear yourself again.

And that’s where trust begins with food, with your body, and with your time.

💗 What would you give yourself today if you didn’t feel guilty for needing it?

This is your reminder that a slower start doesn’t mean you’re falling behind.
It means you’re listening.
And that matters more than any to-do list.

Nourishment isn’t just about food.

You can honor your hunger and still feel off.
You can eat something that fills you up and still feel tense, disconnected, or unheard.

That’s because real nourishment includes more than meals.
It’s also rest.
It’s how you talk to yourself.
It’s setting a boundary.
It’s feeling safe in your body, even when things are messy.

I used to think food was the whole picture.
But intuitive eating helped me see it differently.
Yes, food matters but so do satisfaction, self-trust, and care that goes beyond what’s on a plate.

Now I ask: What actually feels supportive today?

Right now, reading this book has been part of that for me.
Not for self-improvement. Not to check off a list.
Just because it feels good. Supportive. Like something my nervous system says yes to.

Sometimes that’s a meal that hits the spot.

Sometimes it’s silence.

Sometimes it’s saying no without explaining yourself.

This is what I help people practice.
Not performing health. Not chasing rules.
But learning how to listen, and respond with care.

So, what’s been nourishing you lately, even if it doesn’t look like wellness content?

We don’t need to earn our rest. Or our joy. Or our pleasure.
But wow — doesn’t it still feel like we do?

The other day, I was enjoying a quiet moment. Sun on my face. A warm drink. No agenda.
And then, out of nowhere, that familiar voice popped up:
“Shouldn’t you be doing something?”
“Have you been productive enough to relax?”
“Are you wasting time?”

It’s so automatic, this guilt that creeps in when we enjoy something just because it feels good.

And I’ve noticed:
It doesn’t just show up during time off.
It’s the same guilt that used to shape how I approached food and my body.

I used to believe I had to earn my meals.
That rest days had to be justified with soreness or strictness.
That pleasure — from food, movement, or simply existing — was only allowed if I’d first “been good.”

That mindset didn’t just rob me of joy. It disconnected me from my body.

Because when we treat food as a reward, and rest as something we have to deserve, we stop listening to our needs.
We stop trusting ourselves.

That’s what my intuitive eating journey helped me shift.
It taught me that satisfaction isn’t dangerous.
That hunger isn’t a problem.
That rest and nourishment go hand in hand.

And now, I carry that same compassion into my daily life:
✨ I let rest be part of my rhythm — not something I earn.
✨ I allow food to be joyful and satisfying — not a moral test.
✨ I practice trusting my desires — without needing to explain or justify them.

This is what I coach on — not just how we relate to food, but how that relationship ripples into everything else.

💗 So here’s your gentle prompt:
What would you choose to enjoy today — if you didn’t feel the need to earn it first?

I used to see rest in black and white.
Either I was completely “off” — no work, no thinking, no action…
Or I was “on” — productive, structured, always proving something.

It was all-or-nothing.
If I opened my laptop on holiday, I failed at resting.
If I wasn’t totally checked out, then clearly I was still hustling.
There was no room for intuition, desire, or nuance.

But here’s the truth:
I didn’t learn to change that through mindset work or time management hacks.
I learned it through my relationship with food.

Because I used to approach food and my body the same way:
🥦 Be good — eat clean, light, controlled.
🍫 Be bad — eat emotionally, eat “too much,” feel shame.
🚫 Restrict → Rebel → Repeat.

There was no middle ground.
No trust.
No satisfaction.
Just rules and guilt.

And when I started unlearning diet culture and rebuilding trust with my body, something shifted:
✨ I saw how this black-and-white thinking wasn’t just about food.
✨ It was how I was living my whole life.

So now, I bring the same compassion and curiosity into how I rest:
💗 If I feel like writing on holiday, I do — because I want to, not because I have to.
💤 If I need stillness, I honor it — without needing to “earn” it.
🌿 I don’t let old rules about “how rest should look” dictate how I spend my time.

This is what I help with:
Learn how to trust ourselves with food — and watch how that trust expands into the rest of our life.

💬 What would it look like to stop living in extremes — with food, rest, and everything else?

I’m not using my holiday to “catch up”.
Not on content. Not on admin. Not on personal development.
But also not to “check out”…. not forcing myself to only rest.

Because I’ve learned that even the idea of “full rest” can turn into another rigid rule.
Another performance.
Another way to disappoint myself.

I used to believe I had to use every break to be productive — to get ahead, prove my worth, or fix something.
So I’d pack my time off with work… and end up more exhausted than before.

Then I swung the other way:
I told myself I must rest.
No work. No structure. Just stillness.
And somehow, that created a different kind of resentment.

Because sometimes, I want to create.
Sometimes I get a little spark and want to follow it.
And sometimes doing something for my coaching business feels good — not draining, not forced.

But then I wonder: Is this rest? Or am I just slipping back into hustle again?

Here’s what I’m practicing this summer:
✨ Letting my free time be mine
✨ Not filling it out of guilt
✨ Not restricting it out of fear
✨ Following what feels nourishing — whether that’s napping or writing, swimming or storyboarding

And the same thing applies to food and body image:

You don’t have to be all-or-nothing.
You can enjoy rest and movement.
Satisfaction and structure.
Ease and intention.

This is what I help explore:
What it means to live in the messy middle.
To trust your desires.
To rest without earning it — and still create without overworking.

💬 Does this feel familiar to you?
Are you also trying to find your own way to rest?

After a long pause, I’m finding my way back to this space.
Not with a bang. Not with a big strategy.
Just with honesty, softness, and presence.

Life pulled me inward the past few months.
I was navigating personal things, and my work at the university became more intense—more responsibilities, more people relying on me.

The old me would’ve tried to juggle it all.
Keep posting.
Keep producing.
Keep performing.
But that’s not the kind of life I believe in anymore.
And it’s definitely not what I coach others to do.

So I did what felt radical in a hustle culture world:
I stepped back.
I chose to rest.
And now, as I step into my summer holidays, I feel the spaciousness returning.
The energy.
The spark.

And with it, the quiet nudge:
“It’s time.”
Time to reconnect with this space.
With you.
With my work.
With myself.

I don’t have it all figured out.
But I’m coming back with a full heart and a deep breath.

A slower way. A kinder way. A nourished way.

💗
If you’ve also needed a break, or are in the messy middle of one—you’re not behind. You’re human. And you’re allowed to start again.

The problem isn’t you. The problem is how goals are set.
For years, I thought I needed to ‘fix’ myself to achieve my goals. I believed I had to work harder, be more disciplined, or change completely. But here’s what I’ve learned: sustainable goals aren’t about fixing what’s ‘wrong’—they’re about building on what already matters to you.

✨ Goals rooted in the idea of ‘fixing’ often sound like:
➡️ ‘Lose weight to feel worthy.’
➡️ ‘Work harder to prove yourself.’
➡️ ‘Stop doing XYZ completely.’

But when your goals build on your values, they feel lighter and more achievable:
✅ Focus on joyful movement that energizes you.
✅ Prioritize meaningful work that excites you.
✅ Create habits that fit your lifestyle.

Let’s stop chasing goals that feel like punishment and start creating goals that feel like growth.

📩 Comment GUIDE to grab my free workbook and start setting goals that stick.

New Year, New Me?
Do we really need to start over every January?

Here’s the truth: You’re not a project that needs fixing. You’re already enough.

✨ This year, instead of chasing a ‘new me,’ let’s focus on:

➡️ Honoring who you already are.
➡️ Building on what makes you feel good.
➡️ Setting goals that align with your values.
Because growth doesn’t mean changing who you are—it means celebrating yourself and moving toward what matters.

📩 Comment GUIDE for my free workbook and start setting goals that truly honor YOU.