self-care

Self-Care.

The concept brings to mind images of spa days, champagne flutes and fully white robes, facials, massages, and quiet. Lovely as all of those are, and as much as I do enjoy a quality spa day with all of the above, this is not the kind of self-care I want to talk about today.

Over the past 18 months, my therapist and I have discussed self-care on more than one occasion. Generally speaking, we tend to see it as eye masks and hot baths (except no bath for me…grout is disgusting and you will never find me sitting down in tub) and pampering. Pampering is necessary…trust me. I’m not missing an opportunity to pamper myself – ever. But it’s not the kind of self-care we need on a daily basis, and I’m learning that slowly but surely. Speaking to my therapist helps me see things from so many different perspectives, and my therapist has made it clear to me that being selfish about myself, my time, and my life is a tremendous form of self-care.

Self-care has also been on my mind a lot lately because it’s something I’m focusing on tremendously right now. The children are officially back to school and this year, I know what that means and looks like. Last year was a transition year for us. Our oldest went to high school, our middle to middle school, and our twins went to third grade, which is the first ‘real’ and intense year of elementary school. It was our first experience having four kids and three schools, our first time having all four kids in sports at the same time rather than at different times throughout the year, and it was…a lot. We didn’t know what to expect during that transition year, but we absolutely knew what to expect going into August and back to school and sports this year! And that’s why self-care has been heavily on my mind. I knew I needed to make some changes.

We spent most of last year miserably tired. Craig and I were ships in the night. Despite sharing a home office and spending 24/7 together, we didn’t see one another. I was leaving to get the little kids when he was leaving to get big kids. I was taking one to golf while he was picking one up from cheer or taking another to tumble. When we were together, it was in the car driving to and from football games on Friday nights to watch our daughter cheer or to golf matches on Thursdays to spend 5 hours on a golf cart in the miserable heat to watch our girl play, or to golf lessons or tumble classes or whatever.

When we had a date night, it was never alone. It was always with others. Our quality of life was not good. We ran on empty all the time. We were doing and doing and doing for our kids, but we didn’t have any quality time with them. Family dinners were four to five of us at a time rather than all six – and those were rushed. Someone was always in need of a ride somewhere and all the things I loved in life, being social, volunteering, going out, all began to feel like obligations. Why? Because we had sports seven days a week. We were tired. We were exhausted and overdoing it. We had Saturdays with no obligations (but only until March and then we were at seven days a week sports activities and we were dying) and we had decisions to make.

Ultimately, we chose to put everyone and everything else first. We were too tired to plan a date night for the two of us because if we had a free evening to do something, we wanted to stay home, cook something healthy and delicious and eat at our own table with our own family in our own home at a reasonable hour for once. Suddenly, getting together with everyone on Saturdays to watch Gator games felt like a chore. We wanted to, but we didn’t want to. We were tired, and we wanted to stay home. Shopping, lunches, movie nights, brunches, traveling, football season, spending time with our loved ones…all the things we love so much? We didn’t want to do them anymore.

But guess what? We did them. We powered through, and we lived the most social lives on Saturdays. And on Sunday mornings? I cried. A lot. I was tired. I was overwhelmed. I felt empty and sad and unfulfilled because I was doing every single thing for every single other person in the world – the kids, my husband, our friends and family – and I wasn’t putting my own feelings anywhere near the top of the list. Things I loved, my monthly hair appointments, my nail appointments, my solo breakfast dates and my shopping trips, reading – they all became unenjoyable to be because there was nothing left. Nothing. There was nothing left for me to give myself because I’d given it all to everyone else already. I couldn’t say no to anyone but myself, and I was a wreck.

That’s when my therapist told me I needed to set boundaries – and I needed to prioritize my own self-care. It’s not easy…trust me. But it’s getting easier. Not everyone loves it, but I’m hyper-focused on the fact that I have to focus on my own self-care. No one was getting the best of me, and what was the point? Why was I focused on making everyone around me happy knowing that it made me unhappy?

Self-care isn’t always pampering and spa days and happy feelings – self-care is hard work, it’s a lot of tears, and it’s uncomfortable. Why? Because you lose a bit of yourself to grow, and growth is difficult. When you have to face your own shortcomings and your own flaws, acknowledge them, and figure out how to learn from those? Yeah, it’s uncomfortable. On that note, here’s what I’ve learned self-care looks like.

Saying no, thank you

No is a complete sentence. No, thank you, is a more polite version of that full sentence. When I am tired, and when my body is begging me for a break, a day ‘off’ of running around, and all I want to do is stay home and read a book or swim with my kids or cook dinner with my husband and just close myself off from the rest of the world, all I have to do is say no to everything else.

Is it always easy to say no? It’s not. Sometimes, it’s hard. Boundaries are difficult because not everyone around you is comfortable with the sudden change. Some people take it personally when it’s not personal. No, it is personal – but only to yourself. It’s not personal to anyone else. I always thought I was a bit of a martyr saying yes to things I really wasn’t in the mood for, but my therapist said that’s just me making myself feel better. I’m not a martyr for ‘powering through’ and doing things I don’t want to do. I’m a sucker and a people pleaser. I didn’t want to do it, but I said yes to make someone else happy and that’s stupid.

She’s not wrong. While I don’t want to make other people unhappy, I’m learning that it’s not my job to make other people happy. It’s my job to make me happy, and my decisions are useless if I’m not happy. So, with boundaries comes saying no. If I really don’t want to do something because I need a break or some time to unwind, I say no. My therapist reminds me regularly that it does get easier the more you do it, and those who love me are never going to be mad at me for putting myself and my mental, emotional, and physical well-being first.

I just practiced this last week. Our amazing friends invited us over for dinner on Friday night, and I said, “No, thank you. We have plans Saturday night and Sunday evening and we haven’t had one night at home without plans since the beginning of July,” and they completely understood. They get it because they live a very similar life, and they value their quiet time, too. But I said no, and it felt good to stay home, cook together as a family, and go to bed early.

Being mindful of my energy

I am often drained when I socialize. I am a mixture of introvert and extrovert. If I’m extroverted, I need some introvert time to recover. I despise filling my weekends with activities because I know that if I do something social on Friday, I won’t want to be social on Saturday. I want Saturday to unwind and be antisocial. If I’m busy on Saturday, I don’t want to be busy on Sunday. I especially struggle with large group settings. As a result, I’m learning to be mindful of my energy, and that means being acutely aware of the people I am surrounding myself with. There are some people who simply drain my energy by walking into the room, and those people are the kind of people I don’t want to spend more time with that necessary. I’ll see them at large gatherings or special occasions, but I haven’t the desire to spend time with them in small groups.  Being mindful of my energy means being mindful of the people who have access to it, and that’s something new I’m learning this year.

Growth is personal

Self-care requires a great deal of growth, and growth is highly personal. We do not all grow at the same time. What’s important to me might not be what’s important to others. Right now, for example, my idea of self-care is being with my husband and our children. It’s slow, quiet time spent together as a family of six. I am at my best, my happiest, when we are together. Whether we are traveling, sitting around our dining room table eating together, night swimming, playing a game, taking a walk – these are the moments I live for. Not everyone loves doing that, and that’s all right. Growth is personal, and not everyone feels the same.

Disconnecting is necessary

Disconnecting is probably the single most magnificent thing in the world. When my kids and husband are with me, my phone stays in the master bedroom and I don’t pay any attention to it. I’m kind of over being constantly reachable and in touch. My do not disturb goes on, and I don’t pick up my phone again.

The problem with constant connection is that it’s not really our choice. If someone reaches out to me, I feel obligated and compelled to respond right away even when I’m not in the mood to carry on a conversation. Sometimes, nothing is more stressful to me than the idea of talking to someone or responding to someone because they reached out and it’s my time and my mental energy, and I might not have the mental energy to want to chat or catch up or respond.

But I feel obligated to. I don’t like notifications on my phone. I don’t like making people feel as if they aren’t important enough for me to respond to. I don’t like making people feel as if I’m ignoring them. But, I’m learning that by being constantly connected, it makes people feel they have the right to expect a response from me when I’m not really interested in communicating at that moment.

Social media, for example. I love it. I love sharing photos of my kids and our lives and the things I find inspiring and beautiful or funny and relatable. But I’m also 100 percent guilty of not scrolling through to check out anything anyone else is doing. As a matter of fact, I could spend hours scrolling through reels and sending them to people I’m thinking about, but I never watch stories or scroll feeds. I don’t know why, but I just…don’t. Disconnecting is something I’m slowly working on, but it’s felt so good.

Learning my husband’s love language

I am a perfect mix of physical touch and words of affirmation and quality time. I need all three in equal parts from my husband. I need him to spend quality time with me while holding my hand or rubbing my back or whatever while he tells me how fabulously amazing I am and how much he loves me.

Y’all think I’m kidding. I am not.

The problem is that my husband’s love language is acts of service. He does and does and does and does for me because he feels that the better, harder, and more he takes care of me, the more loved I feel. I don’t actually care about acts of service, though. I don’t want him doing things for me…though I greatly appreciate all he does for me. I want his time and attention. That’s all.

But Craig is an acts of service kind of guy, and part of my own self-care journey is learning to speak his love language because he works so hard to speak mine. You want to know something? I actually enjoy it. I’ve found so much joy and so much pleasure in the little acts of service I’m learning. Making his breakfast every morning after I’m home from dropping the twins off at school. Trying new recipes with him. Doing things he normally does for us for him instead. He love it, and guess what? It gives him more time to speak my love language, and I love it. It’s been a huge win for both of us.

Being present

Hands down, the single most important thing I’ve learned on my self-care journey is presence. It’s amazing to me how miserable I allowed myself to become, and how I talked myself out of admitting it. How could I be miserable? I have everything I’ve ever wanted. I wasn’t miserable, that could not be right. There are people with real life problems in the world, and here I am being miserable because I’m tired?

Guess what? Just because my problems aren’t on the same scale as other people’s problems doesn’t make them any less serious (another gem from my therapist). I can be miserable and unhappy even without real world issues. So, I finally admitted to myself I was miserable. And I decided I didn’t want to be.

I was ready to be present. And when I began focusing on my presence, my world changed. Being in the moment is all that matters. Since I’ve been focusing on being more present, my attitude has changed tremendously. Listening to my son give me the weather update every morning? I love it. I love it because he loves it. Face masks with my daughters on a Sunday morning? Sign me up. Movie nights with the kids and my husband and popcorn? Yes, please. Family walks and pool days and dinner dates and ice cream dates…being present for these things changes them. Instead of thinking about what I still need to do or what tomorrow looks like or anything else, I simply focus on right here, right now, being with my people.

Let me tell you what it’s changed – everything. We are having more fun. The kids are having more fun. Everyone is more connected, and we’ve bonded. And it is glorious. I highly recommend it.

It isn’t easy

Self-care is not always easy. Focusing on yourself and putting yourself first is, first and foremost, not selfish. It’s smart. It’s necessary. It’s imperative. You can’t pour from an empty glass and all. But it’s not easy. Not everyone understands the changes in you. Not everyone supports your changes. Saying no is hard. Setting boundaries is not easy. Putting yourself first is difficult at times. It means making other people uncomfortable to make yourself uncomfortable. It’s important to remember, however, that people love you. They want you to be happy. They want you to find peace in your own life. They don’t want you miserable, and those who love you will truly understand when you need to put yourself first.

Practice your own self-care, and learn to get comfortable being uncomfortable. I’m not perfect, and I make a million mistakes a day. But I’m finally in a place where I’m not making myself miserable any longer. It’s worth it.