Hey there ❤️

I'm back from the mystical land of maternity leave! And honestly, it feels so good to be writing these Letters to you again. 🥰

First off, a (big!) life update: I’m officially a mum! I gave birth to our baby girl after 43 hours of labour, more in-depth updates and reflections are over on my Instagram and YouTube channel.

Secondly, if you’ve been wondering where I disappeared to, I promise I haven't forgotten about you (I wouldn’t dream of it)! I've just been on the longest planned career break of my life, and spent 6 weeks on self-imposed house arrest. And I’ve learned so much about identity and productivity and been humbled a whole lot along the way.

When I first stepped back from work during pregnancy – the productivity guilt hit hard.

As someone who's spent most of my life in environments where we were taught that hustle and attainment is everything – whether in formal education at high school or Cambridge medical school, to my career working as a doctor and content creator and entrepreneur – taking a big break suddenly felt like stepping into a vacuum.

I realised I’d built so much of my identity around what I do, rather than on who I am. And when I had to take a break from it all, we had all the perfect ingredients for a big old existential crisis. The questions that repeatedly popped up my mind were pretty confronting: Who am I when I'm not actively creating? What's my worth when I'm not producing? What’s my value to the world when I'm just... resting?

But here's what I finally learned on an experiential level: sometimes the most productive thing we can do is rest.

The Ancient Wisdom I Discovered

There’s actually profound ancient wisdom in this. It’s nothing new – traditional cultures around the world have understood this for thousands of years.

During my postpartum period, I chose to partake in an age-old postpartum Chinese tradition called “confinement”, or zuo yuezi 坐月子 in Mandarin, literally translated as “sitting the month”. This tradition consists of 42 days of intentional, intense rest and recovery for both mama and baby starting right after birth.

It involves 6 weeks of staying at home, using only boiled ginger water for washing hands or showering to keep the “warmth” in your body, consuming only hot things, eating plain yet nourishing food and soups designed specifically for recuperation, and mandating deep rest during this critical healing period. So this means no leaving the house, no touching tap-water, no chilled drinks, no tasty restaurant meals, and no hustle. 

And yes, I did this voluntarily - and no, it wasn't my mum's idea. 

It became crystal clear that this tradition wasn’t “passive rest” or simple “bedrotting” for 6 weeks. It was what I’d describe as "active rest”, where you intentionally focus on nourishing your mind, body, and spirit. Both modes of rest have their place, but the latter really builds you up for whatever comes next.

The foundation behind this confinement tradition is beautiful: they say that this one month can change a woman's life. If you take proper care of yourself during this pivotal moment, you set yourself up for long-term health, wellbeing, and the ability to show up as your best self for your family, community, and the world later on.

And having experienced it, I’m a convert. It was exactly the protective bubble I needed, even if I didn’t always know it in the moment. My energy levels came back naturally, my body healed smoothly, and I feel strong and energised coming out of it.

These kinds of rituals around intentional rest during major life transitions haven't persisted for thousands of years by accident. Our ancestors knew something we're just remembering: allowing proper recovery time during pivotal moments isn't indulgent, it's strategic.

This extends far beyond pregnancy and postpartum. Whether you're navigating burnout, illness, bereavement, feeling lost or directionless, navigating a major life transition, or simply sensing that you need to change something in your life – dedicating time to reset isn't just valuable, it's the cradle of transformation. Even smaller breaks deserve this intentionality; those scheduled date nights, the weekend afternoons spent reading instead of checking emails – these aren't (just) treats. They're necessary investments to “refill the well” and show up fully.

A Love Letter to Anyone Feeling Guilty About Taking a Break

If you’re reading this and even thinking about taking a break leads to feelings of guilt or even anxiety – I seriously understand. It's natural when we've been conditioned to constantly strive, as rest can feel like the antithesis of everything we've been taught about success.

Here's something I like to remind myself of: the very fact that you want to work and push yourself is proof that you're not a lazy person. So once you're ready – when your body, mind, and circumstances align – you'll naturally return to productivity, and feel good doing it.

This isn't about becoming someone who takes breaks indefinitely. It's about honouring the seasons of your life responsively and understanding that rest is productive too. A break isn't the end of all productivity, but rather a moment to refill your cup.

And, like for me, it might very well change your life. Sometimes, the best way to move forward is to have fully stepped back first.

✍️ This week's journalling prompts:

🌟 What does "active rest" look like for you? What activities or practices genuinely restore and nourish you? Choose three simple “active rest” activities to try this week – and predict how you’ll feel before and after.

🌟 When was the last time you took an intentional break? How did it feel, and what did you discover about yourself during that time? If you could now design your own mini “confinement” period for whatever you’re season you’re in now, what would it include?

🌟 In moments of productivity guilt, what compassionate reminders could you say to yourself?

I'd love to hear your thoughts on rest, productivity guilt, or any insights about your own relationship with taking breaks. Feel free to leave a comment down below! 

Thank you for being here with me as I navigate this return to writing and creating, and I'm grateful for your patience during my time away. I’ll leave you with a quote I’ve been reflecting on a lot in this season:

“You find your rhythm when you realise that even the steps backwards were part of the dance.”

I hope you find your own rhythm – one that honours both the forward steps and the backward ones, the leaps and the pauses, the movement and the rest.

Looking forward to sharing more Letters with you in the weeks ahead! 💌

Lots of love, 

Izzy xx