Category: self-care

A-Ha Moment

Recently I had an a-ha moment. It wasn’t a brand new revelation, exactly, and it was something I have touched on and mentioned before, but it was the first time that it really sank in, grabbed something deep inside, and refused to be brushed aside again.

I take care of things. I mean that in many ways.

First, I mean it in the sense that I get things done. I am very task-oriented. Let me know something needs done, and I am already formulating a plan to finish it. My husband is the same way. When we helped our older daughter move recently, he and I jumped right in, stayed in motion, never slowed down, and focused on getting the job done. The entire move was completed in less than two hours. Now, we were exhausted, sweaty, and thirsty, but the important thing to us was…we got it done!

Second, I mean it in the sense that I take care of others. I am not a coddling, baby-talking kind of caretaker. I believe in tough love when needed, and that nurturing means honesty and guiding people to take care of themselves. But I feel responsible for the ones I love and want to help them in any way I can.

I take care of my husband, my stepkids, my grandbabies. That will never change, and I don’t want it to. I love them and want to take care of them. I am not complaining or nominating myself for martyrdom. I have never thrown what I do for them into their faces, because that’s an asshole move.

But this is the realization I had recently. I had just come home for work, and my husband wasn’t home yet. The first thing I did was take care of my cat, picking him up, loving on him, getting his dinner and clean water. Then I went outside to take care of the cats who refuse to live inside: petting them, talking to them, changing their water, serving dinner.

And after that, I was strolling to the back edge of the yard to pick up the large water bowl I leave for squirrels and raccoons, getting ready to clean and refill it, when the thought hit me that I actually prioritize taking care of everything and everyone under the sun before myself. Again, not because I demand praise and want a medal for my sacrifice, but because I simply run out of energy before I get to me, and that has been happening for a long time now.

I had to laugh. I have a house full of plants and orchids that I take care of and fawn over. A yard I fuss over all the time (weeding, trimming, mulching, you know, the never-ending maintenance). A car that gets washed and detailed every week. A house that stays cleaned and organized. The neighborhood’s happiest birds, squirrels, raccoons, rabbits, and possums, thanks to multiple feeders, bird baths, and water bowls. Four amazing kids, an awesome husband, two beautiful grandkids, three brothers I adore, all of whom only need to ask, and I will be there, because I love them all and am happy they are in my life.

I wouldn’t trade any of it or take any of that off the table. What made me laugh was realizing that I have prioritized absolutely everything, including random wildlife, over taking care of me. So much of my time and effort are devoted to everything and everyone but me, and I have come to view taking time for me as as a waste of my time. I actually get irritated about doing something for myself.

I love animals, but come on…when raccoons, squirrels, and hummingbirds are tended to better than myself, maybe it’s time to reevaluate and reprioritize just a bit!

I am not dropping anyone off my list, human or animal or plant. They are all still important to me and worthy of my attention and energy. I have just finally come to the realization that hey…I am worthy of my energy and attention, too! And I need to slide myself to the top of that list sometimes, because I not only want it and deserve it, but because I honestly need it.

5K

It had been far too long since I went for a run, so after work yesterday, I laced up my running shoes, braided my hair, and headed to the gym. I was surprised how much I had missed it, even in the short break that I had taken. It felt good to fall into that rhythm, to move, to work up that sweat.

I ended up running just over a 5K distance, then stretched and went home to clean up, change clothes, and treat myself to a new face mask I had just picked up. I have a ridiculous amount of body lotions, face masks, serums, you name it, but what can I say? I love self care, and hey, I deserve it!

Then, at last, my favorite time of the day: time to cuddle up with my husband, relax, chat about anything and everything, unwind from the day, and just enjoy some time to ourselves before heading to bed and closing out the day.

I slept so much better last night. I feel like I am getting my stride back. I am sliding back into my happy routine and am getting excited again about setting goals for myself.

On top of that, we have fun plans for this weekend, our favorite holiday is next week, and this morning was the first noticeably cooler weather of the season…ahhhh! Bye, summer! Don’t hurry back. I have a huge stack of sweaters and sweatshirts just waiting for the chilly days!

Starting Now

I can be my own worst enemy at times. After a knee injury and then two very unpleasant rounds of antibiotics sidelined me for about three weeks, I am just now working my way back to any semblance of my routine, and it’s a struggle.

You would think I could muster up some grace for myself, considering the injury and illness were not my fault, and certainly not much fun. Instead, I have allowed my frustration and disappointment to get the best of me. This has pushed my goal deadlines back by several weeks, and my excitement has turned to aggravation, worry that I won’t reach my goals at all, and then heaps and heaps of self-blame and anger.

Yeah, it’s as delightful as it sounds. I tell myself how irrational it is to be mad at myself for something I couldn’t possibly control, but my inner critic is relentless and harsh as hell. The problem is, it’s making it very difficult to get back onto my feet. How do I move forward, when I keep shoving myself back down into the dirt?

Last night, I decided to talk to my husband about it. He is the most honest and straightforward person I know. He doesn’t believe in sugarcoating the truth, and it’s one of the many, many things I love about him. I know that any words of wisdom from him come straight from his heart.

I was glad that I opened up to him. We talked for a good while, and he gave me a healthy dose of tough love mixed with encouragement and compassion, exactly what I needed. He said he didn’t know why I am so tough on myself, but that he wished he could change that, and that he wished he could replace that negative voice in my head with his, telling me how beautiful and strong I am, instead of tearing myself down.

So, starting right now, I am committing to this promise to him, and to myself: that I will stand back up, brush myself off, acknowledge that the setback has slowed me down and delayed the finish line for some of my goals, but that I am absolutely going to move forward again, take good care of myself, and get back to work.

Not tomorrow. Not next week. Now.

For me. For him. For us.

Rest

I haven’t written much on here about anything happening in my life lately. Sometimes it just feels easier to keep things private until I can put them into words better and really explain them.

Nothing bad or difficult, mind you…quite the opposite. It’s just that I don’t believe in gray areas or half-assing anything. When I want to change something, I want to go all in, make a clean sweep, and sometimes that involves completely gutting something, emptying it all out, and starting over from scratch.

It’s left me feeling exhausted but satisfied, like finally climbing to the top of a steep hill and settling down for a moment to take a well-deserved rest, tired but peaceful. I’m not where I want to be just yet, but so much closer than I was at the beginning of the year, and I have no more doubts about my ability to get there. I will. I just want to reflect for a moment, appreciate the distance I have covered and the hurdles I have stumbled over, and look forward to where I am headed.

Then…it’s back to full speed ahead.

Glitter Face Mask

After a hectic work week, relaxing with a soothing face mask sounds like a great way to unwind, right? I certainly thought so.

I had picked up a packet of Star Dust Brightening & Hydrating Peel-Off Mask Treatment during a Dollar Tree run earlier this week, an impulse buy, figuring “what the heck, it’s a dollar”. Now, I know some people might say “What do you really expect from a Dollar Tree face mask?”, but I have found some surprisingly great beauty items at Dollar Tree and thought this would be the same. Plus, it is purple and sparkly. What more could I want?

After I washed my face last night, I tore open the little packet and started spreading the mask on my face. My first warning sign, in hindsight, should have been how thick the mask was. I have used peel-off face masks before, and they are a gel consistency. This one was very thick and difficult to spread out, like paste.

I got an upper body workout, getting the mask spread out on my unsuspecting face, then kicked back in the living room for 20 minutes to let it dry, ignoring the chuckles of my husband once he saw my star-spangled purple face. When time was up, I headed to the bathroom mirror to peel off the mask.

There was one little problem: the mask wasn’t coming off. It wasn’t budging. I tried peeling from the edge, and it clung to my skin like I welded it on. As I lifted the edge of the mask, my skin came with it.

Have you ever seen the movie Alien? Remember the face hugger creature that attached itself to its victim’s face, and no one could get it off? Yeah, that is what this face mask reminded me of. Not exactly the peaceful, spa-worthy, self-care ambience I was going for.

Well, no matter what, I needed to get this glittery purple parasite off my poor face. I tugged at the edges, winced, danced around the bathroom on my tiptoes in pain, yelping “Ooooh! Ouch! Son of a bitch!”, questioned my sanity for putting this torture device on my face in the first place, then tugged again. I repeated this delightful sequence of events as many times as it took to tear off a chunk of this dastardly face mask.

I tried splashing warm water on my face to soften the mask. Instead of rinsing off, though, it just turned to gooey purple concrete on my face, like glittery tar. I lathered up with face wash and scraped at it to get it off.

Finally, panting with near exhaustion, I had pried, scoured, or ripped every bit of that face mask off. My face, instead of brightened and hydrated, was red, raw, angry, and blazing hot from the assault it had just endured. I tenderly dabbed hydrocortisone cream on my cheeks and begged my face to forgive me.

As we were climbing into bed last night, my husband said, “You have glitter on your cheek.”

I grunted. If there was any glitter from that damn face mask left, it is now a permanent feature of my face, never to be removed by mortal hands!

It probably goes without saying, but I absolutely do not recommend this face mask. Luckily my face isn’t showing any scarring evidence of the trauma I inflicted upon it last night…except, of course, that stray piece of purple glitter!

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