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Comamamunity: Bring Back That Self-Lovin' Feelin'

I start most days with a collection of hopes. When I wake up, these hopes are fresh and tidy, like neatly wrapped packages. In those moments before I've started my day in earnest, I see these hopes have the opportunity to be realized. I will exercise. I will return an overdue phone call. I will pay bills. I will do the neck stretches my chiropractor recommended. I will eat a light lunch. I will avoid sugar. I will drink more water. I will iron that shirt. I will go to studio. I won't watch TV. I will carve out quiet time. I will go to bed early. As I light the fire under my teakettle, I remind myself that these hopes represent feeling good. Taking care of myself. But as my energy gets pulled by the tide of daily demands, I inevitably find I lack the will. Or perhaps it's the discipline, desire, or time (my favorite villain). While I may have seen a few of my hopes to fruition, I feel a pinch of shame for those left behind. By the time my head hits the pillow, my neatly wrapped package has come undone.

Why is it so hard to take care of myself? It seems so simple. I know what it requires. I know how much better it makes me feel, and I'm relatively disciplined and organized. Yet for some mysterious reason I pretty much always fall short of my self-care aspirations and frankly, I am frustrated. I don't want to feel shame. I doubt I am alone in this, but I have a hard time bemoaning my struggles amongst my girlfriends with kids. Who am I to complain of no time? I'm not running around being a mommy. I'm also not a CEO or a neurosurgeon. The demands in my life are ordinary, and I still struggle. When I contemplate motherhood, I don't worry about being a good mom. I worry about taking good care of myself.

I got a call from my best friend last week asking if we could have a slumber party at my place. She has two daughters—ages one and three—and her husband was giving her the night off. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a good night's sleep and was relishing the idea of dinner out, good conversation, and sleeping in. I listened to her story with sympathy and amazement. Quality sleep ranks right up there with food, water, moisturizer, and bubble baths as necessities. How does she do it? How is she faring in her struggle to nurture herself? How have children made it easier or harder to stay centered or prioritize? What is taking good care of yourself like for mamas?

"I think kids or no kids, I have the same bandwidth for time management," she said. "Before I had kids, I filled my life with other distractions and commitments that kept self-care a challenge. Now I've had to redefine what is or is not a necessity. I have to be realistic. I've made a list of my must-haves and my nice-to-haves. The musts are things that directly affect my mood and energy. I must do a centering activity everyday, even if it is just for one minute. I must eat moderately. I must do physical activity two or three days a week. It would be nice if I floss my teeth every day, but if I don't floss, it won't change my mood."

Her method was ingeniously simple and compassionate. Compassionate because it reflects her personal truth rather than an undifferentiated laundry list of things that will make you feel like shit if you don't do them. I became interested in mining my own musts from my nice-to-haves. Not all my self-care needs are created equal, and by leaving them all lined up like twelve pins to be struck daily, I was setting myself up for defeat. I am, after all, a lousy bowler. I really do know better, but it's easy for me to confuse self-care with doing everything right. I see where I have mixed up my hopes with my needs, my ego with my essence.

Sorting out what is realistic does not mean lowering my expectations or slacking off. It means looking inside for answers. Seen through the lens of good mothering, I can't expect to one day meet the needs of a partner or child if I can't meet my own. A mentor of mine once told me that if I tell the truth in my relationships, I couldn't manifest a relationship that is a burden to me. This has been powerful relationship advice, and I now see it applies equally to my relationship to self. Like so many women, I have wrestled with a legacy of feeling lacking. Not fit enough, accomplished enough, organized enough, or effective enough. For every "enough" there is a long list of attendant "shoulds." What starts out as a desire for self-care disintegrates into self-reproach.

I can see where the demands of mothering—on your time, energy, and resources—would encourage a woman to get very clear on what she needs, and pay more attention to how those needs change. Kids are constantly developing. They remind us that we are all en route to the next place, and what we need to get there shifts. In my twenties, self-care was a pretty different proposition than it is today. Unfortunately, it had a lot more to do with how I looked than how I felt, and my needs were all jumbled up around boyfriends, jobs, self image, and learning how to be independent. I could also get away with a lot more foolish behavior. In my thirties, I have a much better sense of my strengths and limitations. My body, heart, and mind are both more and less agile. Red wine kicks my ass and I can't rebound physically like I used to, but I am so much more grounded in my body today. What motivates my desire to take care of myself is my need for energy, peace of mind, inspiration, and openness to life. I also want to be there for the people I love…and someday that may include a child.

When I tell the truth, my self-care needs are more modest. I need to make time to check in every day. I need to stretch and strengthen my muscles regularly. I need to eat wholesome foods most days. I need to connect with art-making at least twice a week. I need to be present in my relationships. I need to feel gratitude for my blessings everyday. I hope to start jogging. I hope to be in bed by eleven. I hope I take my vitamins. I hope I get to the drycleaners.

column added on 2006-03-18 :: ::

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