Selfish or Self Care?

I have been called many things. Some accurate; some not. Some hit the core of who I am, and some were easy to brush off as foreign.
Few elicit a reaction as visceral as being called "selfish".
The most important job I have is being a mom. Being a teacher is hella important also, but these two small humans are part of me. I will never be famous, or change the world in an enormous way, and I am totally ok with that. I will affect the future with my children. It is a huge responsibility to create loving, kind, confident humans. If my children know they are loved, every moment of every day, and feel that security to make their own way in the world, then I have succeeded.
Because of all this, when I am called selfish, it somehow attacks my success as a parent. I doubt that makes sense to many, but it may to some. To me, selfish has such a negative connotation that it cannot possible be congruous with being a good parent. To be selfish is putting your needs over someone elses... and how could a good mom do that?

To survive, that's how.

I routinely put others before myself. I don't mean that in a bragging way. I don't mean that my way is better, because based on my current mental health, I would say it's not. I just do. I am sure I learned from my mother, and I am at my core a caregiver. I will give up what I want so others are taken care of. I genuinely do not mind most of the time. I will gladly give up an hour of sleep because A asks me to get up and snuggle with him. He's 8, so god knows it won't happen for much longer. I let him crawl on my lap even though he weighs 90 lbs and it kills my hip. I will happily allow G to sit with me and watch her terrible YouTube videos. I will give up my evenings for kids sports and activities and sacrifice holidays to pay for hockey. I will take them down waterslides even though I hate water in my face, and I will run up tobaggan hills in the freezing cold. I will give up space in my bed, expectations for how clean my house is and sick days. These are easy ones.

It's much harder to reconcile giving up pieces of myself.

I have blogged before about how I truly believe that we are responsible for what we allow others to take from us. I do believe that to be true. I have allowed everything. I have allowed people to chip away at me until I am scared there is nothing left but resentment and brokenness. I have enabled and maybe even encouraged behavior that I would say is not acceptable.

We have all heard the "put your own mask on before any one elses" with the airplane mask analogy. We have read the meme "you can't pour from an empty cup". I promote self care in every yoga class. I practice self care by eating properly so my arthritis doesn't cripple me, by exercising almost every day and with yoga. Sometimes though, it isn't enough. It's those extra times where I feel selfish. Where I take extra time just for me. Just to BE me. To be myself without who I am as being defined by the relation to someone else. To remember WHO that actually is. We are told who to be, how to be and when to be. Because if I am taking time, I am subtracting it from somewhere else.
I took a day yesterday. A whole day. It's a long story and I was supposed to be gone for the weekend, but it didn't work out. So I took the day. I had lunch with a friend. I wandered a mall for hours by myself. I looked at books and didn't have to bribe anyone to be quiet. I got a coffee. I sat. Just sat. I actually tried on clothes rather than just buying them in a rush so the kids wouldn't get bored. I wanted to run, but the time goes by fairly quickly.
I missed my son's game winning goal. I cried.

As usual, I have no insight or answers. I have the realization that I cannot give pieces away without somehow rebuilding them. I have the guilt about missing the goal, but the happiness of my kid when I came home and he gave me a huge hug and a long play by play. I have the certainty that adult decisions are rarely easy, and the knowledge that we largely live in shades of grey. There are so few black and white scenarios, and you cannot have it all. If I choose to be selfish, despite the negative associations, then I choose to give up my selfless designation. Maybe at 39, it's time to redefine the pieces that I am willing to give away.


Yours,
C.