Creating new priorities

What happens when your old priorities stop working overnight?

For years, I was a creature of habit. I did what was familiar. What was comfortable. And honestly, what was easy to repeat—because repetition becomes a kind of safety.

Then my world flipped upside down with a medical event.

And when that happens, you don’t just “adjust.” You take a hard look at the things you’ve been doing—your downfalls, your negative behaviors—and you either reinvent yourself or you keep drifting toward the same cliff.

Lucky for me, I didn’t have a lot of distractions at the time. That gave me space to reflect. To rebuild. And the truth is, a lot of that rebuilding didn’t feel optional.

It felt like: Do I want to be on this Earth or not?

That’s when priorities stop being theoretical.

My relationship with “being active” had to change

A good example is becoming more active.

A lot of it wasn’t about fitness or goals—it was recovery. It was rebuilding heart strength. It was addressing the ripple effects that diabetes can create when things start going sideways.

But I didn’t come from an “active” world.

I came from a desk-job life. White-collar routines. Even growing up, movement wasn’t reinforced in my household. Exercise wasn’t this natural part of the culture around me—it was more like an annoying extra thing people talked about.

So when activity suddenly became a requirement, not a suggestion… it hit me hard.

Early in recovery, I didn’t feel secure. I felt anxious. And I didn’t expect that part. Especially living overseas and on my own—there was this constant question in the background:

How far from my house can I go?

That fear shook me to the core. And it forced me to see rehabilitation as more than “getting better.” It had to become a new way of life.

A real reprioritization.

It wasn’t about the gym. It was about rebuilding trust with my body.

I had to learn that movement didn’t have to mean the gym.

It didn’t have to mean chasing step counts.

Yes, those numbers can be useful—but what I needed first was a new relationship with myself and my body. I had to start giving it what it needed, without trying to force it into some program that didn’t fit who I was.

And here’s what surprised me:

The biggest shift wasn’t physical.

It was mental.

I had to be true to myself. Be honest with myself. And do it without judgment.

Not worrying about where I should be. Not beating myself up for where I was. Just looking for small improvements during the day.

Because those small improvements add up.

The new priority: action as a lifestyle, not a routine

Over time, I started realizing something:

Activity isn’t just a routine. It’s a lifestyle.

It’s the mindset of always looking for improvement—even if it’s small.

It’s expanding your bubble. Expanding your environment. Expanding what you think you’re capable of.

And that expansion can show up in different ways:

discovering the world around you

rebuilding confidence

socializing more naturally

healing the mind from what traps it

For me, it’s been one step at a time.

No grand plan—other than the plan to keep moving forward.

And little by little, my world has opened up again. The anxiety has been fading. I’ve gone from bare bottom to a place that feels like real progress.

The journey isn’t over. Not even close.

But I’m starting to feel more comfortable inside it.

Practical takeaway

If your life forces you to create new priorities, start with this:

Be honest about what your body and mind need—then build from there without judgment.

Don’t worry about being “behind.” Don’t wait for confidence first. Take small actions, consistently, and let those actions rebuild your trust in yourself.

One step at a time is still a direction.