Worry Tigers and Tiny Toes

From judgement to gentleness, one step at a time.

My right foot is not working properly.

That’s the truth, plain and simple.

For over a year now, I’ve been trying to figure out what’s going on with the lower right side of my body. At first I thought it was my knee. Then I worried it was my spine. But the real culprit? My toes. Specifically, the first two toes on my right foot.

Those tiny, beautifully painted digits are wreaking havoc on my entire body.

It’s seemingly neurological. It’s definitely physical. And it’s become a source of daily anxiety. Not just because of the pain or the limitations, but because of what it stirs in me about how I show up in the world.

I can ride my bike for miles. I lift weights. My heart is strong.
And yet… walking a single mile can wreck me for days.

There’s a particular kind of grief in feeling strong of mind and weak of body.

Especially in a world that rewards energy, polish, presence.
Especially in leadership roles, or when I’m standing in front of a room coaching, guiding, holding space.
I dread the long days. The full schedules. The subtle and not-so-subtle ways that mobility shapes perception.

But the hardest part isn’t how others see me.
It’s how I see me.

Because if I’m being honest, the harshest judgment is my own.
I compare myself to a past version. The one before this "neurological event." I measure myself against who I used to be instead of being present with who I am.

That gap, that dissonance, is where the anxiety lives.

And so I’m learning to sit with the Worry Tiger (check out yesterday’s Revisiting Storytime for this awesome children’s book).
Not to push it away. Not to tame it. Just to be in relationship with it.

I’m learning to soothe the fear instead of silence it.
To remind myself that even in this changed body, I’m safe.
I’m not broken. I’m not failing. I’m just in a new chapter. One that requires different tools and a deeper kind of kindness.

What helps?

Mindfulness. I come back to the breath when my mind spirals.
Therapy. A place to speak the unfiltered truth without shame.
Friendship. Honest conversations and soft landings.
Connection to myself. Especially when I’m scared or angry or sad. Especially when the old voices try to tell me that my value is measured in energy or output.

Here’s what I’m holding this week:

I can be strong and need support.
I can feel afraid and still be safe.
I can lead with power and show up with a limp.

I don’t have to banish the worry.
I just have to keep reminding it that I’m here and I’m listening.

What are you worried about? And are you being kind to yourself about it?

Leah