Learning to Slow Down

‍ ‍With love, dedicated to my dear sister-in-law, Diana Ravi

Many moons ago, when I was getting married, I remember rushing everywhere.

There were a hundred things to organise. Decorations, people to meet, last-minute details to check. I was running from one task to another, barely stopping to breathe.

In the middle of all that chaos, my sister-in-law looked at me and said something that stayed with me.

“Slow down. Breathe. Relax. Be a bride. One day, running like this, you will end up suffering from something major.”

At the time, I brushed it off.

After all, it was one of the most important days of my life. I wanted everything to be perfect.

But instead of enjoying the moment, I spent most of the day rushing from pillar to post.

Looking back now, I realise that moment said a lot about who I was.

I was always a go-getter.

Always moving.
Always doing.
Always trying to get things done.

My mind and body were constantly switched on.

Living in Fast-Forward

For many years, that was simply my normal state.

I was always on the go, always thinking ahead, always pushing forward. My nervous system rarely slowed down.

Looking back, it often felt like living in a constant fight-or-flight mode.

At the time, it seemed like productivity.

But the body keeps its own record of how we live.

When the Body Demands a Different Pace

Fibromyalgia has a way of forcing you to slow down.

Not gently.

Sometimes quite abruptly.

When energy disappears, when sleep becomes difficult, when pain and fatigue take over, the body begins to set limits you can no longer ignore.

The pace that once felt normal becomes impossible to maintain.

At first, this can feel frustrating.

You want to keep moving the way you used to.
You want to keep up with everything and everyone.

But the body begins to insist on something different.

Over time, I began to realise that slowing down wasn’t a weakness.

It was necessary.

Resting when the body asked for it.
Taking breaks before exhaustion took over.
Allowing moments of quiet instead of constant movement.

Looking back, I sometimes think about what my cousin said on that wedding day.

“Slow down. Breathe. Relax.”

At the time, it felt impossible. Life moved too fast, and I believed that pushing harder was the only way forward.

But fibromyalgia has a way of teaching lessons we might otherwise never learn.

It teaches us about the nervous system that needs calming.
About the energy that must be protected.
About sleep that the body desperately needs.
About the mind that sometimes disappears into brain fog.

And slowly, it teaches something even deeper.

That life doesn’t always have to be lived at full speed to be meaningful.

Sometimes healing begins with something very simple.

Slowing down.

Breathing.

And finally, listening to the body that had been whispering for years, fibromyalgia simply made sure I heard it.

Written by -Ann Joseph