The Whisper I Ignored (and Paid For)

When I was 23, in my last year of college, I completely blew out my foot.

Now, what exactly does it mean to “blow out” your foot?

It means that for four and a half years, I’d been physically pushing myself to my limits.

I trained six days a week for years and on most weekends ran (mostly sprinting) more than most people do in their entire lives.

It was insane 🤪

And it was the most fun, challenging, competitive, community-oriented time of my life!

But on a cold January day, I noticed the first twinge of pain in my left heel.

At first, I ignored it and continued on with my warm-up and track workout anyway.

But a week later, when I could hardly get out of bed to go to my 8:00 a.m. class, I knew my body was trying to tell me something.

I also knew, deep down, in the very back crevices of my mind, what it was trying to say.

See, our bodies aren’t just machines that malfunction out of the blue.

Like a machine, malfunctions happen when there’s no more power, or if something gets worn thin, or if it overheats—there’s always a reason, even if it’s hard to draw a direct, immediate connection.

But even though the quiet thought was there, I ignored it.

I kept playing. I kept pushing. I kept taking pain pills to mask what I was going through.

Eventually, those pain pills turned into a cortisone shot before a big tournament, and that turned into another cortisone shot before Regionals.

It was only after that that my foot “blew out,” leaving me in a walking boot for months and unable to run for even longer. As far as playing my sport again, I officially retired.

I’d been told that I’d collapsed my arch, partially torn my Achilles, and chipped my cartilage. All side effects of multiple cortisone shots.

So, why am I telling you this story exactly 14 years later?

Because yesterday I was reminded of what happens when we don’t listen to those little whispers.

The little nudges we get—be it from our bodies, our thoughts, or wherever else they come from.

You know what I’m talking about.

Because at first, it will come in the form of a whisper—just like the little bit of pain in my heel.

But when it’s ignored, it just gets louder, and louder, and louder until it hits you over the head with the message!

For me, my message was to slow down. To rest. Take a break.

It was my body’s way of telling me I was burned AF as a straight-A college student, earning a double major, captaining a sports team gunning for Nationals, while partying way too much and doing everything in my power to escape the pain I felt inside.

It was my body’s way of telling me how exhausted I was by the constant back-and-forth between the internal voices in my head—one telling me how much of a failure I was, the other terrified of never being good enough.

But it was the quiet, grounded Adult voice that held the wisdom of the whisper.

Which is exactly why I’ve worked so hard to cultivate this voice in the years since.

The other parts, the Inner Critic and the Inner Child, are already well-developed, but it’s usually our Adult-self that needs to be taken to the metaphorical gym.

But it’s not for a lack of showing up—usually, it’s due to a lack of listening.

Because listening to the Adult isn’t always fun!

It’s the one telling you to manage your finances differently, or that it’s time to end the relationship, or that you really don’t need that extra slice of chocolate cake.

The Adult-self is always there, always whispering, always trying to get your attention.

And the thing is, our nervous system plays a huge part in this dance. When my nervous system was fried from years of go-go-go energy, it wasn’t just my foot that needed healing—it was every layer of me.

I wish I’d known about somatic therapy back then. I wish someone had told me how simple it could be to pause, breathe, feel my feet on the ground, or even notice where my shoulders were creeping up toward my ears.

Somatic therapy teaches us that our bodies speak in sensations. That our nervous system isn’t the enemy—it’s just the messenger, alerting us when a boundary’s been crossed, when a part of us needs care, or when we’re pushing way too hard.

Parts Work and somatic therapy go hand in hand here. It’s one thing to think about my Inner Critic screaming at me to keep pushing through pain, but another to feel where that Critic lives in my body—like tight hips, clenched jaws, or that sinking pit in my stomach.

When we blend Parts Work with somatic awareness, everything changes. We can spot the patterns faster. We can sit with the discomfort instead of running from it. We can calm our nervous system instead of blowing out our metaphorical foot all over again.

So, for you—what are the whispers right now? Is there a part of you quietly begging for rest, more sleep, a different pace? Is your nervous system sending you subtle signals that you’ve been sprinting for too long?

Maybe it’s time to pause, take a few deep belly breaths, and check in. Feel into your body. Listen for the wisdom that lives beneath the noise.

Because the sooner you listen to whatever your Adult-self is trying to get you to see or act on—the less painful the delivery. And trust me, I’d choose listening over limping any day.