Confession of a Recovering Momaholic
This year I've learned to take self-care more seriously. As women, we often hear that self-care isn't selfish and put your mask on first before you can help others, but if I'm honest, part of me has taken mom life so seriously that I've been on auto-pilot when it comes to making choices for myself. Some of it is a need to be needed. Since my sons were little tykes, I've wanted them to need me, and I ensure that they do by doing for them. It's what I like to call mom survival mode. I was so worried about them getting older and more independent that I went way overboard with them when they were tiny and helpless. You know what happened? I got stuck on auto-mom pilot, and as they got older and more independent, I was still doing it and doing it and doing it well, in my L.L. Cool J voice. It wasn't until I started having dizzy spells and passing out that I learned some sense. Funny how we can work ourselves into the ground, literally, and only have a doctor's bill and a reality check to show for it. My sons are 13 and 12 now, and I'm a recovering momaholic. I wised up about two years ago.
I'm ashamed that it took that long to slow down, but I've let go of the need to be needed and the need to control, too, if I'm really honest. Things may not get done the way I would do them, but they are learning and capable. The last thing I want is for some young lady to be side-eyeing me because I allowed two capable young men to turn out sorry. Not on my watch. I'm doing better for them and, most of all, for me. So here's to living beyond the hashtag, #selfcare, and really doing it for ourselves without guilt, shame or even ego getting in the way. Self-care really isn't selfish; it's necessary.