About 9 months ago, our family had one big life change. It’s a word I never imagined would apply to me or to us: divorce.
There are a lot of details. A lot of emotions. Too many to really write out in words. Years of a chapter of life finally coming to a close. I never imagined stepping off the last page of my book and finding myself alone on the next, trying as hard as I can to grab onto something tangible. It’s like my fingers were coated in oil and the ledge was made of glass. I looked up, petrified, to see my children standing there watching me.
I found my strength in them.
I started my new journey gripping with my fingertips, but eventually I got a hold with my hands, and at one point I swung a leg up. I wasn’t passing out into bed of pure exhaustion each night anymore, trying to make sure that everyone else was taken care of. My job, my home, my kids, my relationships.
Those who have gone through this before, understand. No two paths are the same. No two people are the same. I think the one thing I lost sight of in all of the mess, while I felt wave after wave pull me under, gulping the air as it hit my face, was myself. My needs. Everyone else needed me, and one of my greatest flaws is allowing myself to do things out of obligation–to make sure everyone else is taken care of. I thought doing those things would make me stronger; would help me move past the obstacles in front of me. What it was actually doing was pulling me deeper into the water.
I was constantly sick. My stress, lack of self-care, and ceaseless thoughts were catching up with me. My body couldn’t take it anymore. It was shouting at me to rest. But I couldn’t. So the endless loop continued.
For those who have followed along for years, you know I stayed home to raise my children. When I stepped into this new chapter of life, nothing I knew was there anymore. I didn’t recognize my surroundings at all. Yet, I had to wrap my arms around my babies to shield them as best I could while my mind tried to make sense of what was around us. Day by day, things became clearer.
I had a home for us. I had a job for us. I had food for us. I took care of us.
I could do this. I was doing this.
No means no.
I’ve always told my children, “No means no.” I used it a lot in the context of respecting boundaries. Usually that meant giving physical space, but I never took a moment to really understand what it fully meant.
It means I can’t do that extra task. I can’t give you extra time or attention. I can’t give more of myself. Isn’t that selfish? To not give more?
It’s what I thought. I’d make myself feel guilty over it. Which made me more stressed because I then felt guilty AND was carrying too much. There came a point when I almost broke and realized that if I didn’t start to fill my own cup, my glass would shatter completely.
Expectations will ruin you.
A lot of my expectations were personal ones. I expected to have everything tied with a neat little bow immediately. It took me too long to realize things take time. Growth takes time. I learned to tell myself “eventually,” because it wasn’t a timeline promise, but it was a promise I wanted to uphold: I will get there eventually. And I would. And I have.
But then there are the expectations of others. That you should be at a certain point. That you should be doing certain things a certain way. That how you move forward is by someone else’s standards. That your decisions are the wrong ones. That the way you’re feeling is irrelevant to what e x p e c t a t i o n s someone has for you. Those were the loudest and the sharpest.
Silly as it may be, one of Taylor Swift’s lyrics in But Daddy, I Love Him says, “Let me tell you something ’bout my good name: it’s mine alone to disgrace.” And while I don’t necessarily mean disgracing ourselves, I do think there’s a key point to takeaway here: our life is our own. Our decisions. Our timelines. What we can handle. How we handle it. Only we know what is best for us, for our children, for our families. There is not a single person who is walking in your shoes but yourself. Judgement is loud, but tuning it out to hear the beat of your own heart is possible.
Prioritize the important things.
Hint: the important things are the small things. Keeping routines during a time of complete change (like going to sleep and waking at the same times). This is something that’s been so important with the children because they might be confused about the overall picture, but they do know how mealtimes work or how schedules work. That their clothes go in the hamper when they take them off or we get a story before bedtime.
I worked hard to prioritize routines because I wanted to provide a sense of normalcy in the chaos. A space of calm in the noise. The most important thing besides providing was making my kids’ mental health a priority. Sometimes that meant I had to prioritize my own before I could give to them.
See, taking care of myself wasn’t selfish. It isn’t selfish. It’s how we survive the storm. It’s how we persevere when it passes. It’s how I set an example for my children what hard work looks like–that sometimes it may be resting. Sometimes it may be asking for help or simply existing. Sometimes it’s baking together, or tidying the house. Sometimes it’s parks and picnics. Whatever it looks like, it’s together.
Taking care of myself is a priority.
More importantly, taking care of myself isn’t selfish.
love.