How I Learned To Trust Myself Again

Orly Levy

Originally Posted on The Closet Creative’s Substack

Here is what my health journey taught me about listening to my body, questioning old patterns, and finding a different way forward.

Around the time my daughter was born, I was diagnosed with thyroid disease.

I was experiencing terrible symptoms that mimicked postpartum depression, along with a slew of other possibilities. Brain fog, depression, extreme fatigue, anxiety, and an overall “I feel like shit” all-the-time existence.

The diagnosis came as a relief. Finally, there was a reason. I wasn’t making it up in my head.

The solution every doctor gave me was the same: take this pill every morning for the rest of your life, and you’ll be fine. And if you want to have another healthy pregnancy, make sure you stay on top of it.

Medication every day for the rest of my life? No thanks.

I decided to explore what I thought was a healthier, more natural route. I began taking supplements recommended by Eastern and Western practitioners. I changed my diet and became the healthiest eater. Blood tests became part of my normal routine.

The result? Nada.

My numbers stayed the same, and I was still struggling with symptoms.

Two years later, I found a different doctor. She was confident about my situation and explained that I could take medication, adjust the dose according to my blood work, and start feeling better. Within a few months, my numbers normalized.

It was a huge relief.

When Feeling Better Became the Same as Not Feeling Terrible

About three years later, I had two children and a routine with my endocrinologist and prescribed medication. My second pregnancy had been healthy, and my postpartum experience felt like a breeze compared to the first.

I continued taking the same medication because my blood work was in range. But when I took a closer look at how I actually felt, I realized something.

It wasn’t that I felt great. It was that I didn’t feel terrible.

My blood work looked good, but I wasn’t necessarily feeling good. Somewhere along the way, I had started trusting the numbers on paper more than my own experience of living in my body.

And even worse, not feeling so great had become my norm.

When my doctor asked how I was doing, I genuinely answered, “Pretty good.”

Of course I was tired. I had two kids. Of course I didn’t feel great all the time. I was an adult. Of course things were stressful. I was a sensitive and emotional person.

I had an explanation for everything.

My mind was busy finding reasons to support what the blood work said. I was willing to listen to doctors, lab results, and medication, but I wasn’t paying much attention to myself.

That part took much longer.

I kept wondering what else I could change. What else could I do to feel better?

Slowly, my focus began to shift.

I started putting more energy into setting boundaries, resting, and eating most of my meals at home. I became more intentional about my bedtime routine. I made room for my love of creative expression. I worked on calming my nervous system through exercise and learned to be gentler with myself.

Something unexpected happened along the way.

The more I learned to take care of myself, the more I began to speak up. I became more direct, more honest, and more vulnerable than ever before.

I was learning to listen to myself in ways that had nothing to do with my thyroid.

And still, every morning, I took my medication.

Until I reached a point where I felt ready to revisit that part of my health journey.

The Fear of Doing Things Differently

My health-conscious sister had planted a seed years earlier.

“What if you don’t actually have that disease? What if you don’t need that medication? Maybe that medicine isn’t the right route for you?”

I listened, but I kept taking it. I was scared.

What if all those symptoms came back? What if it took me another two years to feel normal again? What if the doctors said I had made a mistake?

Eventually, I began exploring changes to my diet and supplements and discussing my medication with my healthcare providers. I wanted to understand my options and what might be right for me.

Changing my medication wasn’t something my doctors agreed with, and navigating that uncertainty was difficult. I was trying to make sense of what the medical information was telling me alongside what I was experiencing in my body.

Over time, I noticed that I was feeling better, even as my treatment changed. My blood test results varied, sometimes improving and sometimes worsening, but my symptoms weren’t returning in the way I had feared.

I was surprised and curious. How could I be feeling better when things weren’t following the path I had expected?

And then a realization hit me: I had spent eight years following a routine without fully understanding how it was serving me or how I was actually feeling.

Holy shit.

I want to be clear: I’m not against Western medicine or doctors. Medication played an important role during my pregnancy, and I still believe in monitoring my blood work and understanding what’s happening in my body. Feeling better doesn’t, by itself, establish whether a medication is needed, and changes to thyroid treatment require appropriate medical guidance.

But my experience taught me something important about the relationship I had with myself.

I had become so accustomed to looking outside myself for answers that I had stopped paying attention to my own experience.

I wanted to learn how to listen again.

Not to dismiss medical information, but to make room for my own observations, questions, and needs.

What My Health Journey Taught Me About Self-Trust

This journey is still unfolding, but I’ve learned so much about trusting myself.

I believe there are many streams that lead to the sea. Sometimes the path is already there. Sometimes you have to find another route. And sometimes, finding another route requires a little creativity.

For me, this was never just about finding the perfect answer to my health. It was about becoming willing to honor what I was experiencing and to explore the unknown rather than automatically retreating into what felt familiar.

I think that willingness was what really began to change my relationship with myself.

It wasn’t necessarily about the what or the how.

It was about the constant fear I was up against in my own head and learning that I could hear that fear without letting it make every decision for me.

And those fears weren’t limited to my physical health. They showed up emotionally, too.

My need to stay quiet and polite. My habit of putting other people before myself. My pattern of taking responsibility for things that weren’t mine to take.

Basically, a lot of hiding, people-pleasing, and staying small so other people would love and accept me.

I began to recognize a familiar pattern. I was following what made sense on paper while ignoring the feeling that something was off.

My emotional health was screaming, “I don’t feel good,” while my mind was saying, “This works. Just keep being nice. Keep being loving. Keep everyone happy.”

Eventually, I started questioning those habits, too.

What if there was another way?

Maybe disagreeing with someone wouldn’t mean losing their love or ending up alone. Maybe it would create space for the right people to be in my life.

Maybe love and security weren’t things that existed only outside of me, but things I could begin to cultivate within myself.

Maybe learning to trust myself in other areas of my life would help me feel more grounded here, too.

I started to see that self-trust wasn’t just about making decisions. It was about being willing to hear myself, even when what I heard didn’t fit with what I thought I was supposed to do.

Making Room for a Different Way Forward

I don’t believe we need to feel good all the time. There is no perfect—not in physical health, not in mental health, and not in life.

But there is better.

There is a moment when you realize you’re showing up differently. When you notice you’re enjoying life more than you’re struggling through it. When you begin to recognize that you have choices, even when the way forward isn’t immediately clear.

For me, one of the biggest changes has been learning to stop automatically overriding that little voice inside me simply because someone else seems to know better.

Trusting myself doesn’t mean ignoring doctors, facts, blood work, fear, or other people’s opinions.

It means listening to all of it, then making room to come back to myself and ask:

What am I actually experiencing?

What happens when I get curious instead of afraid?

And most importantly:

What if I trusted myself enough to find out?

That, to me, is where self-trust begins.

Not in knowing exactly what to do. Not in having all the answers. But in becoming willing to listen to yourself and trusting that you can navigate what you discover.

Where Creativity Comes In

When I look at my health journey alongside my relationship with creativity, I see the same lesson appearing in different ways.

There isn’t always one right answer. There isn’t always a clear path. Sometimes we have to slow down, get curious, and allow ourselves to explore possibilities we hadn’t considered before.

Creative expression gives us a place to practice that.

When we sit with a journal, pick up a paintbrush, or begin making something without knowing where it’s going, we’re practicing the willingness to be with the unknown. We don’t have to figure everything out before we begin. We can experiment, make a mess, change direction, and see what emerges.

For someone who has spent years looking outside themselves for permission, that can be a meaningful shift.

We begin to make room for our own ideas, feelings, and desires. We learn to notice what feels right, what feels uncomfortable, and what we might want to explore further.

We practice listening instead of immediately judging, fixing, or pushing ourselves toward an expected outcome.

And perhaps, little by little, we begin to carry that openness into the rest of our lives.

There is more than one way forward. Sometimes the most important thing we can do is stop looking outside ourselves for permission to take the next step.