What is self-care? Why does it matter? Who has time for that anyhow? As a chronic overachiever myself, these questions have haunted me. A frequent refrain of my late teens and early twenties was, “Autumn, you need to slow down. Take some time for yourself.” I would look at these people and wonder what they were talking about. I didn’t have time to take an hour-long nap every day or the money to get a message weekly.

Then in grad school, as they always like to do, my professors began drilling it into our entire cohort that self-care is just as important to our professional life as it is to our academics. And yet again, I found myself asking, “What do they really mean by ‘self-care?’” The term eluded me as the examples I heard, made my skin want to crawl. I’ve never been a sit still and meditate type and I certainly was trying to eat as healthy as possible on a grad student’s budget, but I struggled to understand.

At some point, I can’t remember exactly when now, one of my professors decided that we were to have self-care assignments. I was intrigued, but also nervous because I still wasn’t exactly sure what she meant. Feeling bold, I decided to ask her to clearly state her expectations of these assignments. She looked at me blinking in surprise, but my classmates looked around in agreement – the vast majority were also confused.

What followed the simple act of directly asking for clarification, cleared up years of misunderstanding in a single class period. I suddenly realized that self-care is not simply lying in bed all day scrolling on my phone, or just meeting my basic needs, but rather a way of giving my mind and body the rest it needs. For some people, this would mean naps and meditation, but for me, though, it’s more about disconnecting and grounding myself.

Over the years, I’ve gotten better at meeting my needs. I tend to be a social person and enjoy interactions with others which is one of the many reasons I decided to become a therapist. However, like many introverts, my social battery is only so large and to be the best therapist I can be, I must recharge that battery. I tried many ways of doing this, but the one that works best for me is hiking. The solitude, or the company of a select few, allows me the opportunity to disconnect and check in with myself while nature grounds me. It provides perspective and a challenge. Thus, increasing my self-efficacy and presence in other parts of my life.

Will hiking work for you? Who knows? That is not for me to say, but I would encourage you to be creative and tap into the things that brought you joy as a child. You may find the answer is that simple. Conversations about self-care can be complicated and elusive, but it does not have to be.