I do not find a way here to fully relax.

My nervous system has not relaxed in six years. I feel it specifically here, in Hawaii…

Last year forced me to face how burned out, nervous, and tight I was. The thing about facing reality is that you can’t unsee it. You can’t unfeel it. This island forces you to face your demons, your escapism, your body state and mental state. There is no escape.

And from seeing it in myself, I see it in everyone around me.

I think of my mother-in-law, who has taken care of her partner for almost ten years, and how her nervous system must feel. I think of my friend who decided to leave the US to be safe, only to be slowed by a diagnosis of breast cancer. I think of my friend who went on a long trip with her husband and came back single, with everything to process. I think of my client who left a lifelong job, burned out, to start a new career and travel alone, coming back with more clarity.

In all these stories, we forget one thing: our nervous system. We learn to push when we are off, sick, or tired. We do not complain. We look at other women and compare ourselves, thinking they are happy so we should be happy. We tell ourselves to be content.

The Dream That Carried The Weight

My own story started with a dream. I was so excited to make it come true in NYC, to leave my home country and start a life I chose. That energy wouldn’t let me think about what being an immigrant really involved. I wouldn’t let anyone or anything change my mind.

I made the decision to move to Hawaii because I was ready to leave NYC, I was in love, and Hawaii had everything I loved. But that decision was made under layers of pandemic burnout. It was led more by a need to chill than by logic.

People say going on vacation and living somewhere are not the same. It is definitely true. On vacation, something happens that doesn’t happen when you live there. And the things we think won’t matter become important.

The Unseen Price of The Dream

The reality of immigration has a weight. I had to worry if what I said could affect my safety. I had to travel with piles of paperwork. I had to erase my phone for days before crossing a border. The situation here has been challenging every step I’ve taken toward my own growth.

I never questioned what I was getting myself into. I don’t have regrets. I just reflect on the person I was then, so excited for a new life after 19 years of waiting. I was in alignment.
I would not let anything stop me.

But we change. The things we are okay handling for a dream, we often don’t want to handle a few years later. I feel guilty for wanting something different, as if my initial “yes” was a blood contract. I sometimes imagine how it would have been if the politics here had been less challenging for someone like me, for all of us honestly...

The Island That Shows You Everything

Living in Hawaii forced me to see my blind spots. It showed me how incredibly challenging my life in NYC really was. This island is not just a beautiful place. The volcanic soil, the active volcano, the wild jungle, the deep ocean—they force you to remove the layers you learned to put on. It requests you to be honest and true.

My husband told me this island would challenge me in my core. He lost a lot here. He has faced challenges that make him want to start over somewhere new, in a place that doesn’t hold that energy. I understand now. This is a beautiful place with a deep history of pain. The roughness of the cold lava reminds you that to be accepted, you have to show your true self.

The Choice I Am Making Anyway

Now, my instinct and my heart are telling me to get out. To take fresh air in a place where I do not have to worry about any requirement, where I do not have to be careful.
I wish there were an easier option.

That is what gives me mixed feelings about renewing my green card.

But I am renewing it. I have made peace with this choice. Not because it feels right.
Not because my heart is at peace with it. But because of my family here, and because I want more stability for my business. It is what I need to do right now.

A close friend told me when I feel guilt: “This also wasn’t what you signed up for.” It’s true.
I did not sign up for a situation that has been challenging at every step I’ve made toward my own growth.

The Quiet That Hasn’t Come

I eat healthy. I sleep eight or nine hours a night. I work on myself. I help others. I have built a strong relationship with my husband and friends. I live on a beautiful island surrounded by nature, where the rhythm forces you to slow down.

And yet, my nervous system has not relaxed in six years.

I would like my life to be simpler. Not in a materialistic way, but in a mental-overload way. I don’t know if everyone feels like this. Maybe it’s because I come from a place with healthier boundaries and more social support. I don’t remember having to worry that my words could affect my safety.

The part of my life in NYC—what I had to do to survive—is still waiting to be processed.
It is still waiting to be relaxed.

The Question For You

So I ask you: where is your body keeping the score?

Is it in your tiredness? Your tight shoulders? The stomach burn you ignore?

What dream are you living that has a hidden, physical cost?

And what would it mean for you to finally listen to it?

With gratitude,
Nina