2026 Responses from Kristina Cavit, MNZM, founder of The Kindness Institute and co-founder of TAIORA Indigenous Wellbeing
“How can I be kinder to myself when endometriosis means I can’t always do the things I planned to do?“
I’m learning to remind myself that changing my plans doesn’t mean I’ve failed or let anyone down. My body needs what it needs, and I’m allowed to rest. I try to speak to myself the way I would speak to a friend — with kindness rather than guilt.
I also ask myself, “Whose business am I in?” Is this actually my business — what my body needs — or am I worrying about what someone else might think? That helps me come back to myself.
“How do I look after my mental wellbeing when I’m dealing with ongoing pain, fatigue or uncertainty about how I’ll feel from one day to the next?“
For me, it’s about not trying to solve everything at once. On the really difficult days, I remind myself that I’ve had better days and I’ll have them again.
Meditation has genuinely got me through some of my darkest times. It gives me a bit of space and perspective. Instead of thinking, “How am I going to cope with this forever?”, I can think, “Okay, I just need to get through this hour.”
I also use breathing and STOPP — stop, take a breath, observe, put it in perspective, then proceed — to help me pause rather than get swept up in the overwhelm.
“I often feel guilty when I need to rest or cancel plans because of my endometriosis. How can I work through that guilt?“
Guilt has been a really big one for me, especially when I’ve had to cancel on friends, family, my partner or work. I’ve worried people will think I’m flaky, uninterested or don’t care.
I’m still working on it, but I’m realising I often spend way too much time in other people’s business – worrying about what they might think – instead of my own business, which is: I’m unwell. What do I need right now?
And I remind myself that cancelling because I’m unwell doesn’t make me a bad person. I can care about people without being responsible for how they feel about my decision.
“How can I stop endometriosis from becoming the thing that defines how I see myself?“
I do a really simple gratitude practice every day. I think of three things I’m grateful for, even if they’re tiny — a good coffee, my kids making me laugh, feeling okay for a few hours.
And I try to think of one thing I’m proud of myself for. That one is actually really important for me because when you’re living with pain or fatigue, it’s easy to focus on everything you didn’t do. So I try to notice what I did do, even if it’s something really small.
It helps me remember that my worth isn’t measured by how much I got done that day.
I think for me it’s about remembering that my body and my illness aren’t the whole of who I am. I’m trying to accept my body as it is, rather than only accepting it when it’s having a good day.
I try to notice what my body does for me and speak to it with kindness, even when I’m frustrated with it. One thing I do at night is put my hand on my puku, breathe, and thank my body. I’ll say, ‘Thank you for protecting me. Thank you for working so hard for me. I’m learning to be on your side.’ It sounds really simple, but it’s helped me change the relationship I have with my tinana. I don’t have to be grateful for the pain, but I can be grateful for my body carrying me through it.
I also write things down when I’m having good days – reminders to myself that I’m okay, that I’ve been through hard days before, and that this will pass. Then I have something to come back to when I’m in the thick of it.
I try to remind myself: I’m a good person, I’ve done enough, I deserve to rest, and I’ve got through worse than this, this will pass.
Sometimes I just have to let go a little, and focus on getting through the next hour rather than my whole life.
“When I’m having a particularly difficult day, what are some small things I can do to support my wellbeing rather than simply trying to push through?“
Sometimes the kindest thing I can do is stop trying to push through or fix everything. I’ll rest, slow down, breathe and ask myself, “What do I need right now?” rather than “What should I be doing?”
But I’ve also learnt that rest doesn’t always mean being alone. Sometimes I have absolutely no energy and still make myself see a friend, and almost every time I feel better for it.
I spend a lot of time trying to fix my body – trying to fix the pain, fix the symptoms, find the next thing that might make it better. And of course I want to feel better. But constantly trying to solve it can become exhausting in itself.
Accepting that you’re sick is really hard. There’s a part of you that wants to fight it, or find the thing that will finally make it all go away.
But when I can stop trying to solve every problem in that moment and accept, “Okay, this is where my body is today,” something softens.
I can remind myself that this pain will pass. This day will pass. It won’t always be like this. I don’t have to figure out my whole life while I’m in the middle of a really hard day.
For me, acceptance isn’t giving up. It’s letting go of the fight for a moment and giving myself permission to just be where I am.