How Spiritual Life Coaching Helps You Navigate Life Transitions

Recently, I took myself on a solo vacation—just me, the sun, and long-overdue spa time. I loved every second of it… with one exception: I realized how hard it still is for me to speak up for myself when I need to.
I booked a Japanese Head Spa treatment, something I’d been excited about for months. The space was stunning—low lighting, soft sounds, and the calming scent of eucalyptus and rosemary. My practitioner was kind, gentle, and clearly skilled. She asked me to remove my top, wrap a towel around myself, and lie on the bed. As I settled in, I noticed the pillows were positioned just a bit too high, putting pressure on my lower back.
That would have been the perfect moment to say, “Excuse me, could we adjust this?”
But instead, I said nothing. I didn’t want to inconvenience her. I told myself I could manage.
As she began the treatment, I tried to lose myself in the soothing massage of my scalp and hair—but the discomfort in my back kept pulling me out of it. I kept thinking, Don’t be dramatic. Don’t be that person. Don’t ruin the vibe.
Then came the eye mask, face mask, warm towel, hand lotion, warm mitts, and weighted blanket. I wouldn’t normally call myself claustrophobic, but in that moment, the combination of sensations was overwhelming. Still, I stayed quiet. I convinced myself it would pass, that it wasn’t worth interrupting her, that it was too late to say something now.
So there I lay—caught between physical discomfort and pure bliss—trying to breathe through both.
When it was finally over, I spent the entire drive back to my hotel asking myself one simple question:
Why didn’t I speak up?
Why did I assume my needs were an inconvenience? Why did I think advocating for myself would make me “difficult,” when she would have gladly adjusted anything had she known?
The truth is this:
We can speak up with kindness and clarity.
We can advocate for our comfort without taking away from someone else’s work or energy.
And when we do, we build confidence, reduce stress, and create more respectful, honest relationships—with others and with ourselves.
Our needs matter. Our comfort matters. We matter.
So next time you’re uncomfortable, take a breath, stay grounded, and say what you need. You are worthy of comfort, care, and consideration—always.
And for the record: if you ever get the chance to treat yourself to a Japanese Head Spa, do it. It was incredible. My scalp has never been happier.