I just had a week off. At first, the plan was to go away somewhere, sun, food, and a much needed break from the ordinary. But life had other ideas, and instead of boarding a plane, I stayed close to home.

And to be honest, I think it turned out to be the kind of reset I didn’t even know I needed.

I mostly spent the week with my mum, which is something I don’t do nearly enough, exploring cultural, quiet places like Bath and Lacock. We wandered around aimlessly, dipped in and out of our favourite shops, spending long afternoons talking about everything and nothing, sharing plenty of lunches, and just having time that I think we both needed.

As usual, it felt like we’d fallen into an episode of the real-life Gilmore Girls. That mother–daughter rhythm of comfort and familiarity. We treated ourselves here and there, and came home with bags full of little comforts.

I sorted out my life admin, baked banana bread (twice), cleaned the house, and reset everything for autumn, because autumn, to me, has always been the most comforting season. I ate to my heart’s content without guilt, and truly enjoyed a week of simple joys.

I don’t think we ever really notice we’re in burnout until we finally stop. When life is full of deadlines, routines, and constant distractions, you run on autopilot, telling yourself you’re fine because you’re managing.

But the moment you pause, all the feelings you’ve been shelving quietly start to spill out. The exhaustion, anxiety, and forgotten, yet lingering, sadness you didn’t want to admit was there.

It can feel heavy, but that’s also where the reset comes in. A gentle reset can’t fix everything overnight, but it can give your mind and body space to recover in small ways, remembering that peace is found in slow moments.

a soft reset at home

For me, home is where the reset really begins.

There’s something therapeutic about clearing out old clutter — the stuff like half-burned candles, receipts in drawers, or those crusty old tea towels that don’t fit your clean gal aesthetic. These objects hold onto energy, and even though you barely notice them, they sit there like background noise.

Clearing them out makes space in your mind as well as your home. I think sometimes we underestimate how much our environment influences our mood.

These resets at home aren’t chores. They’re little acts of care, disguised as chores.

clearing out clutter

I’ve never been a hoarder, but I do sometimes find myself holding on to things for no reason.

I spent hours going through wardrobes, cupboards, and corners I’d ignored all summer. It wasn’t a frenzy of black bin bags and “minimalist living” — it was minor tweaks. But it felt great to clear my hallway of the unwanted tat that slowly built up the last few months.

a morning bath ritual

Instead of rushing into each day like I usually would, I let myself lean into morning baths.

I’d light a candle, drop in some salts, and just relax. It’s indulgent, yes, and pretty unrealistic for a work day unless I want to get up at 5am.

But it also gave me a chance to think before the day began, to let my mind wander instead of jolting into productivity.

the comfort of baking

I haven’t baked in ages, and I’m not exactly GBBO worthy, but I forgot how relaxing it could feel waiting for a cake to rise.

I baked banana bread one evening at literally 10pm (pure chaos over calm) and the smell carried through the whole house. It really did feel like a new season was approaching.

I ended up baking another this evening, just to use up the rest of the ingredients I’d bought.

And that’s another joy of it, actually using what you already have instead of letting things gather dust in the cupboards. In its own small way, it feels like free therapy, and I’ve always been an ingredient over snacks girl!

wardrobe resets

I took a day to go through my wardrobe, not to buy, for the love of God I can’t afford (emotionally) to buy more clothes I don’t need, but to see what I already had.

I put a shit ton of clothes on Vinted and immediately felt lighter. There’s nothing worse than overflowing drawers and broken hangers.

And the bonus is you find old pieces you can wear again.

the beauty of using what you already have

Another part of this reset was committing to using up what I already had before buying more.

Skincare bottles that were almost finished, hair masks I’d forgotten about, candles sitting untouched on a shelf.

I don’t need ten serums or another conditioner because TikTok said so.

There's satisfaction in finishing what you started. It’s also a small rebellion against overconsumption, proof that you don’t need to constantly buy more to feel enough.

the gentle digital reset

If your home reflects your mind, then so does your phone.

I’ve been guilty of mindless scrolling, chasing dopamine hits from endless feeds. But a gentle reset doesn’t mean deleting everything and disappearing. I just need to use it differently.

Let’s be real, I’m addicted to my phone, it’s a part of my job. But I did notice just how much time I spend on it when I’m not working and have free time. I also noticed the negative effect it was having on my mind. I now know it’s time to switch things up.

On TikTok, I started being intentional. Following real people sharing real recommendations. Book lovers. Home cooks. And, even though it’s not my stage of life, I find comfort in the quiet, ordinary routines of stay at home mothers who are just going about their day with their children.

The internet can be toxic, but when you curate it carefully, it can also feel like a friend, and equally make you feel grateful for the life you live.

an emotional reset

The hardest part of slowing down, though, isn’t the chores. It's the silence.

When you go from constant routine, work deadlines, and busyness to suddenly having open space, the silence feels almost deafening.

The feelings you pushed aside, stress, sadness, even depression, bubble back up. It can feel heavy, almost too much to sit with. I won’t sugar-coat that.

But a gentle reset does help to soften it.

And autumn is the perfect season to face these emotions. The air itself seems to whisper that change is natural. The trees remind you that letting go can be beautiful, that endings can lead to something new.

Slowing down gave me the space to feel, to cry if I needed to. To acknowledge the weight rather than keep running from it.

And that’s part of the reset too. Not everything can be fixed with fresh sheets and baking sweet treats. But those small acts can hold you steady while you navigate the bigger feelings.

slowing down enough to feel

I know better than anyone that slowing down isn’t always easy.

This week reminded me that those feelings don’t mean you’re broken, and a gentle reset isn’t about pretending they’re not there. You have to give yourself space to feel them, then soften into rituals that make carrying them easier.

the slow season ahead

As the air cools and autumn settles in, I feel ready for the slower rhythm.

The tidy drawers, the fresh bedsheets, the wardrobe waiting for cooler mornings. I feel calmer knowing I don’t have to rush or overfill my life with noise.

The art of a gentle reset is presence. To make space for joy in the smallest ways, creating peace where you can, and letting the rest fall into place.

And if I can spend more weeks like this, side by side with my mum, family or friends, wandering old streets, and laughing about nothing, I think I’ll be okay.

I didn’t board a plane, but I think I found something better. A reminder that slowing down at home can be its own kind of destination.