Dear Diary, this week has been full of self-care.

I threw my back out doing a folk dance at my own wedding. I wish I could tell you it was a daring, gravity-defying move… but truthfully, it was a very silly move that involved jumping on a wooden block.

In the first few weeks, I kept telling myself it would pass. But then the pain started speaking louder than my stubbornness, so I took myself to a walk-in orthopaedic clinic. An X-ray later, I learned it wasn’t anything serious — just some angry muscles. And so began my quest for relief.

I found a local myofascial release massage therapist, and let me tell you — she was magic. It’s been a while since I’ve had any kind of massage, and I’d forgotten how incredibly human it feels. The vulnerability of letting someone touch and work through your pain. The quiet, unspoken permission to release not just tension, but emotions, too. After one session, I felt about 50% better — and 100% more connected to my body.

This week also reminded me how much our little everyday movements matter. When you can’t bend to load the dishwasher or sweep the floor, you start to appreciate those things in a way you never noticed before. I stocked up on cleaning supplies (maybe too many) because the second my back is fully healed, I want to deep clean this house. We rent, but it’s still our home — and keeping it clean feels like an act of care, not just for us, but for our two fluffy little familiars.

And because self-care doesn’t have to be all practical, I painted my nails with one of the polishes from the shop — this one — and it’s somehow lasted the entire week without chipping. A small but mighty victory.

So yes, it’s been a week. But in between the aches, there’s been gentleness. The reminder that self-care isn’t always candles and bubble baths — sometimes it’s making the appointment, finding the right hands to help, or deciding that the space you live in deserves love, too.