| I talk to myself. Out loud sometimes. Often internally. And no, this is not a cry for help; it’s an actual strategy. For years, we’ve been told that “self-talk” is either a motivational trick or something vaguely embarrassing that people do when they forget their AirPods are in. But the truth is far more interesting and far more powerful. The way you speak to yourself is not just commentary. It’s an instruction. It’s chemistry. It’s your biology taking notes. Your brain does not distinguish well between words spoken aloud, words whispered internally, or words repeated so often they feel like facts. Language is not just descriptive; it’s directive. Every sentence you repeat becomes a lens through which your nervous system interprets the world. Safe or unsafe. Possible or impossible. Threat or opportunity. Which is why the constant, unconscious narration most of us run all day long matters more than we think. When I was working my way back from the worst of Hashimoto’s, I did all the things you’d expect. Labs. Nutrition. Supplements. Sleep. Boundaries. But something shifted when I stopped treating my body like a defective machine and started treating her like a listening, adaptive system. I stopped saying, “What’s wrong with me?” and started saying, “What do you need right now?” I spoke directly to my thyroid. I thanked her for trying. I reassured her that she wasn’t alone in this anymore. And before anyone rolls their eyes, this wasn’t wishful thinking. It was nervous system regulation in plain English. Your body is constantly scanning for threat. That’s its job. Chronic stress, illness, trauma, over-functioning, and people-pleasing all of it keeps the body in a low-grade emergency state. Cortisol stays elevated. Inflammation simmers. Repair processes get postponed because survival takes precedence. You don’t heal well when your biology thinks it’s being chased. Language is one of the fastest ways to change that internal climate. Studies in neuroscience and psychoneuroimmunology show that self-directed language influences stress hormones, immune response, pain perception, and even gene expression. The placebo effect, so often dismissed as “fake”, is actually a demonstration of how expectation and meaning alter physiology. Belief changes biology not because cells understand poetry, but because belief changes the signals we send through the nervous system. Tone matters. Intention matters. Repetition matters. Talking to yourself isn’t about positive affirmations pasted over reality like motivational wallpaper. It’s about accuracy and alignment and noticing what’s happening without turning it into a character flaw. It’s saying, “We’re on the same team,” instead of running an internal hostile takeover. Most people speak to their bodies like adversaries. Too slow. Too tired. Too sensitive. Too broken. And then they wonder why healing feels like pushing a boulder uphill. When you change the conversation, you change the relationship. And when you change the relationship, your body responds differently. Muscles soften. Breathing deepens. The vagus nerve gets the memo. The system shifts from survival mode into maintenance and repair. Not because you demanded it, but because you created the conditions for it. There’s also something quietly radical about refusing to be passive in your own health. Modern wellness swings between extremes: control everything or surrender completely. Biohack yourself into exhaustion on one end, outsource all authority to experts on the other. Talking to your body lives in the middle. It’s participation without domination; agency without force. I’m not asking my body for miracles. I’m asking for alignment. I’m saying, “We’re in this together,” and then I listen. Sometimes the answer is rest. Sometimes it’s movement. Sometimes it’s food. Sometimes it’s the truth I’ve been avoiding. The conversation goes both ways. If nothing else, talking to your body changes you. It shifts you from adversary to ally, from observer to participant. And that alone can alter the trajectory of healing more than another protocol ever could. Your body is listening. The real question is: what have you been saying? |