By: Luscious Mother
Gobble gobble. Anna here.
I made a very empowering decision today, for which, in the spirit of the season, I am extremely grateful. I let myself off the hook.
This morning, I scrambled haphazardly to get myself out the door to physical therapy. I started going as a ritualistic pandemic activity to address the anger my pelvis apparently has about spending endless days and nights before a Zoom screen in an ongoing loop of “when does my work day really start or end?”
But the reality is that rather than serving me and making my life easier, P.T. had become a burden. I wasn’t doing my exercises at home, and, because I am a compulsive truth-teller, part of my weekly P.T. ritual was confessing these shortcomings to my therapist (not that he wouldn’t have known anyway). The whole thing was loading me down with guilt, shame, and stress. It wasn’t helping my tilted pelvis. And it certainly wasn’t self-care.
So, today, I arrived for my appointment in the mismatched floral/camo combo of a six year old girl on a playdate, and instead of indulging in my ritual of shame, I broke up with my physical therapist. I think he really felt it when I told him it wasn’t him, it was me. (I actually sensed the hint of a smile beneath his N95.) I cancelled all my future appointments and left that office feeling more forgiving and loving of myself than I have in many months.
Go take care of yourself. The way you WANT to be taken care of. Because you’re the only one who knows, really, because you are the YOU expert.
Maybe you only have a scattered handful of minutes to take care of yourself just now. Maybe you have a few golden days. Whatever you have, use it for your own good. Not to please someone else, or because you “should,” or because you always have and it’s “what’s expected of you,” or because it’s (GOD FORBID) the “right thing to do.”
Mama, you take care of you. Now is the time to grab some rest and replenishment. Why? Because after the holidays, we have some ass to kick, a world to put in order, and that can not be done in the old way of coasting into the new year on resolutions and fumes. “Crushing the patriarchy” is a 2020 thing, sisters. 2021, whatever that spicy little four number combo has in store for us, is a year for building the matriarchy. And, mamas, she ain’t gonna build Herself.
With love and thankfulness,
Anna & Sarah
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