Making Time, Choosing What Matters

We often say we want to do things.

We say we want to rest more. Learn more. Move our bodies. Care for ourselves. Grow.

And then we say we don’t have time.

Yet when we pause and really look, time is often being spent elsewhere – scrolling, consuming, reacting. Screen time quietly stretches into hours. Things we believe are “fixed” or “can’t be moved” often aren’t quite as immovable as they feel.

Sometimes it isn’t about time at all.

It’s about permission.

Self-confidence plays a huge role here. When we don’t feel secure on the inside, saying no can feel risky. We worry about being left out. Rejected. Forgotten. We prioritise other people’s needs over our own because it feels safer.

When we feel more settled in ourselves, something shifts.

We know it’s okay to say no.

We know it’s okay to have boundaries.

We trust that relationships can survive disappointment.

So when last-minute plans land in our lap and clash with what we’ve already committed to, we don’t have to abandon ourselves. We can say, “I can’t do that today,” without fear that everything will fall apart.

That’s not selfish.

That’s modelling healthy boundaries.

I say this every Wednesday to counsellors and students: block the hour out. Shift appointments slightly. Make it work.

How can one hour a week for yourself, your growth, or your wellbeing feel so impossible?

The bemused looks often say it all.

But here’s the thing: when we grow, learn, and practise self-care, it’s not just for us. It benefits everyone around us. It prevents burnout. It makes us more present, more grounded, more ourselves.

This weekend, for the first time in a long time, I’m doing CPD purely for me. I’m doing a Cricut course. Spending time with my sewing machine. Going for a run. Walking the dog. Making progress on the sex, kink, and addiction courses I’m studying.

I almost went out instead.

But it didn’t work with the puppy, and honestly, I think that was the universe quietly stepping in.

Today is my niece’s birthday. She invited me out for dinner. I’m seeing her next week anyway, so I was honest and said I couldn’t do today.

She’s little, and she completely got it.

There was a flicker of disappointment, of course. That comes from love. But there was also acceptance, reassurance, and a calm certainty that we’d organise something another time. Off she went on her new bike, totally secure in the relationship.

A child understood boundaries better than many adults.

I wasn’t rejecting her.

I just couldn’t do today.

And in the way she received that, I had no doubt she loves me. She can hold disappointment without blame or shame, and then get back to enjoying her day.

Maybe we could all learn something there.

Listening. Hearing. Allowing the feeling. Not attacking or withdrawing. Just understanding.

Because of that, I could return to my original plans, plans I’d already shared and committed to. A weekend of learning at my own pace. Of rest. Of nourishment. Of doing what I need to do to stay well and avoid burnout.

There’s no fear of letting people down when you know your worth and your intentions.

So I’ve put what I need in my diary. With fresh air, some movement, a box of Christmas Heroes, spicy Doritos, and time to think.

And I know I’ll come out the other side richer, in knowledge, in rest, and in a quiet sense of achievement.

Sometimes making time isn’t about finding more hours.

It’s about choosing yourself in the ones you already have.

Stay safe, stay connected, take gentle care,

Louise x