Permission to Pause
Somewhere along the line, most of us learned that rest is something you earn.
You check all the boxes, take care of everyone else, keep the plates spinning, and then (maybe) you get to stop.
And if you’ve walked through a divorce, that pressure can double. It’s easy to fall into the rhythm of “I’m fine, look how busy I am.” I was stuck in this place for way too long! Busy felt safe. Busy kept the noise down. Busy let me outrun the parts of myself that felt tender. It took a lot of self exploration before I realized how all this busyness was so harmful.
Why did I feel like I had to earn the right to slow down. I didn't have to do that. YOU don't have to do that.
You don’t have to earn a pause.
You don’t have to finish everything first.
You don’t need anyone’s permission but your own.
If you believed — truly believed — that you were worthy of care and attention right now, what would you give yourself?
Maybe a breath.
Maybe an afternoon without a single plan.
Maybe the space to say, “Not this year,” to something that drains you.
Pausing isn’t a weakness. It’s a quiet act of belonging to yourself again.
When you stop moving long enough to hear your own thoughts, you realize how many old stories you’ve been carrying: that you have to stay productive to matter, that your value is measured by what you give, that slowing down means you’re losing ground. None of that is true. But it is familiar, and familiar has a way of masquerading as truth.
A pause interrupts that pattern.
A pause says, “I matter, too.”
A pause reconnects you with the part of yourself you may have abandoned along the way.
How Pausing Helps Settle Your Nervous System
One reason pausing feels so powerful, and sometimes so uncomfortable, is because your nervous system has been running on high alert for a long time.
Divorce, stress, caregiving, and constant responsibility all keep your body braced, scanning for what needs fixing or what might fall apart next. Even after life calms down, your system doesn’t always recognize the quiet as safety. It just feels strange.
Pausing is how you teach your body a new rhythm.
It’s how you say, You’re safe now. You can soften here.
When you pause:
- Your breathing deepens.
- Your thoughts slow down enough for clarity to surface.
- Your shoulders drop from your ears.
- Your body stops preparing for impact.
This isn’t indulgence — it’s repair.
This is how you move from survival mode into something steadier, calmer, and more grounded.
That’s Why a Pause Matters, But How in the Heck Do You Even Start?
Understanding the why is one thing.
Learning to practice it — especially in a life full of responsibilities — is another.
The good news? You don’t need a week off or a silent retreat.
Pausing can be woven into the edges of your everyday life through tiny, meaningful moments.
Here are a few places to start:
- A sixty-second breath.
A slow inhale. An even slower exhale.
One minute tells your system: we’re okay. - Sit for a moment before you walk inside.
A pause between worlds. In your car. On your porch. In the grocery store parking lot.
I started this practice without even realizing it as my marriage was falling apart. When I got home from work, I would sit in my driveway, put on my favorite song, press my eyes with my fingertips and breathe. I’m sure I looked like a mad woman, but it helped me transition from life-outside-the-home to life-at-home. - Put your phone down instead of picking it up.
A micro-boundary that breaks autopilot. - Finish one thing before you start the next.
Not for productivity — for peace. - Leave a little white space.
Protect 10 percent of your calendar as empty. Not for catching up — simply empty. - Five minutes of nothing.
Truly nothing. No scrolling, no multitasking, no stimulation.
Just you, breathing. (yes, this can be done in your car if necessary)
These tiny pauses aren’t about doing less.
They’re about doing what you do from a place that feels grounded rather than frantic — a place that honors you.
What the Pause Reveals About What’s Actually Possible Next
This is the part that I think me (and so many women we work with) actually miss:
A pause isn’t the end of something. It’s the beginning.
When you finally stop rushing through your own life, new things become audible, visible, and available.
Your real desires get louder.
The quiet makes space for you to feel what you actually want — not what you’ve been doing on autopilot and not what you’ve done out of habit or obligation.
Your next chapter begins to take shape.
Your best decisions don’t come from panic or pressure.
They come from the clarity that only shows up when you’re still long enough to hear yourself.
You start choosing what aligns — not what’s expected.
You feel the difference between “I should” and “I want to.”
Between what drains you and what expands you.
This is where your confidence starts to rebuild itself from the inside.
You reclaim a sense of agency.
The pause reminds you that you have options.
You can set the pace.
You can choose the meaning.
You can decide what this next season of your life holds.
This is the heart of the Post-Divorce Growth Cycle: Authentic Self and Self-Care working together.
Not in the big dramatic moments, but in these small, repeated pauses where you learn to trust yourself again.
Because once you’ve paused long enough to hear yourself and I mean truly hear yourself, you’re no longer rebuilding from fear or exhaustion.
You’re rebuilding from desire, clarity, and intention.
And that changes everything.
And yes, guilt might pop up. That’s just conditioning talking.
Guilt isn’t a sign you’re doing something wrong — it’s a sign you’re doing something new. Something that honors you instead of depleting you.
You don’t have to protect everyone else from the ripple effects of your pause.
You don’t have to apologize for wanting a different rhythm.
You don’t have to justify what gives you peace.
You only have to give yourself permission.
A pause isn’t the moment everything falls apart.
It’s the moment everything inside you falls back into place.
