A few years ago, I found myself stuck in a pattern that felt as glamorous as it did stagnant. You know the type—Monday through Friday was a parade of professional hustle, followed by weekends of obligatory events that involved smiling at people I barely knew and eating hors d'oeuvres I didn’t even like. My relationships felt, well, surface-level. My sense of self? Somewhere in the "can’t talk, busy multitasking" pile. And although I had the palm trees of Beverly Hills and a Rolodex filled with familiar faces, something was missing.

Cue a conversation with my brutally honest best friend (because who else would dare?). Over overpriced oat milk lattes, she handed me a piece of unsolicited advice in the blunt way only childhood friends can deliver: “You’re constantly giving to everyone else, but where are you in all this?” I got defensive, then embarrassed because—ugh—she was right. I was so busy networking, pleasing people, and juggling every man I’d ever crushed on in my head (Hugh Grant, if you’re reading this, you still top the list) that I hadn’t carved out meaningful space for me.

And so began "The Year of Me." Or, more specifically, the year of my morning walk.

The Habit That Quietly Changed Everything

At first, setting aside time to walk each morning felt like a humble, even anticlimactic choice. Where was the drama? The grand declaration of a yoga retreat in the desert? The novice-pilgrimage to Italy to "find myself”? Instead, I started slipping on my most weather-appropriate sneakers by 7:30 a.m. (Bev Hills “winter” requires an extra layer; I’m still in shock), grabbing my AirPods, and heading outside for just 20 minutes.

That’s it. Twenty minutes. Around the neighborhood I’d grown up in or, if I felt adventurous, diverting through streets that took me from cookie-cutter mansions to charming little streets that tried—but somehow failed—not to feel smug about their exclusivity. And what seemed like an easy side activity to take up because self-care is “in” slowly became my lifeline.

Why A Walk? And No, It’s Not (Just) About Fitness

I’ll admit, initially, the whole thing seemed pretty basic. Did I really need another Pinterest-worthy two-word life slogan? (Looking at you, “Hot Girl Walk.”) Surprisingly, though, walking became less about my physical health and more about my mental well-being. For years, my mind was like that chaotic group text—buzzing with reminders of commitments, romantic riddle-solving, and leftover dialogue from writing projects. Walking forced all of that noise to hush, even just temporarily.

Why? Because walking is grounding. Literally. Your feet are connecting to something real. And as someone whose world used to revolve around hypothetical scenarios—like “What if this script doesn't sell?” or “Is this text too forward?”—this felt revolutionary. Taking life one step at a time (pun gloriously intended) reset my frenzied mind.

More importantly, it carved out space for me to be fully, unapologetically present. These walks became my miniature oasis of non-performativity. There were no scripts to follow, no one I needed to impress, and no pressure to be anything more than what I was in the moment—just a thirtysomething woman in leggings, dodging overzealous people walking their boutique-bred dogs.

Unexpected Wins From My Morning Walks

What started as a subtle “I guess I’ll try this” ritual developed surprising ripple effects across my daily life—especially in relationships. Here’s how it played out:

  1. Intentional Mindset in Dating:
    Walking gave me time to think—like, actually think—without distractions. And what I realized on those walks was that I'd been pursuing people or situations that didn’t necessarily serve me. I replayed conversations, confronted my “people pleaser” tendencies, and worked through those classic rom-com tropes I’d unconsciously internalized. Let’s just say, Hugh Grant would’ve ghosted me had I brought those tendencies into Notting Hill.

  2. Better Listening Skills:
    Believe it or not, those 20 walk-minutes became practice time for something I had neglected: listening to myself. Walking meant I had no choice but to reflect, and being in tune with my inner dialogue made me a better listener in my relationships. If I had space to process my own feelings early in the day, I was less reactive and more empathetic later—because I wasn’t subconsciously carrying my tangled thoughts into interactions.

  3. Creative Clarity:
    As a screenwriter-turned-journalist, it’s my job to court ideas. But sometimes, creative breakthroughs need space to breathe. Walking gave me that space. To this day, my best story ideas come to me on Caesar Drive or over the hilly stretch of Elm Street, usually after making eye contact with a squirrel who probably thinks I’m plotting something sinister. Even when I’m not writing, I’ve discovered that creativity in problem-solving—whether for work or love—is its own superpower.

  4. Stronger Boundaries:
    Walking gave me a strange but powerful permission: to say no. Having a slice of time devoted entirely to myself reminded me that I deserve to protect my energy. I learned to decline plans that didn’t align with my emotional bandwidth, and you know what? It felt amazing.

Practical Tips for Starting Your Own Walking Habit

If you’re tempted to try this yourself, here’s my two cents (or maybe five dollars—I value good advice):

  • Keep It Low-Stakes: Forget step challenges or turning it into a TikTok time lapse. This is about quality, not quantity. Start small—10 or 15 minutes—and let the habit grow naturally.
  • Leave the Screens at Home: Sure, I’ve brought my phone on some walks, but the key is to use it sparingly. If you do listen to something, make it meditative—not oversaturated noise. My go-to has been jazz playlists (heavy on Miles Davis).
  • Pick a Walking “Route Crush”: If you’re in an area you know well, pick a route that feels comforting or aesthetically pleasing. If you're in a mood to explore, try a path slightly out of your routine. No GPS anxiety, either—it’s a walk, not a pilgrimage.
  • Reflect But Don’t Overthink: Stay curious and open to what thoughts (or silences) arise. The idea isn’t to walk away with a solution every time; it’s to foster connection with yourself.

What Walking Taught Me About Relationships

By the time this habit was firmly planted in my life, it dawned on me that my tiny morning ritual was really about building a better relationship—with myself. Because before I could show up authentically for anyone else, I needed to show up for me. Cheesy? Perhaps. True? Absolutely.

Since then, my relationships—platonic, romantic, the whole lot—have been healthier and less exhausting. Why? Because I’ve learned to communicate from a space of clarity and kindness. Imagine the conversations I’ve avoided thanks to a newfound ability to self-regulate in peace. (If only I’d discovered this habit back in my early twenties, when I used to draft paragraphs-long texts post-1 a.m.)

Ultimately, walking taught me that I didn’t need to climb a spiritual mountaintop or engulf myself in meditative chanting to reset my inner compass. Sometimes, it’s the smallest choices—the quiet acts of consistency—that have the biggest impact. And while I’ll never turn down a grand romantic gesture (again, Hugh Grant, hit me up), this simple habit made me realize that real love—whether for yourself or others—comes in steady, small steps.

So, grab your sneakers and a playlist that makes you feel alive. The sidewalk is waiting—your version of clarity might be, too.