Do you put yourself first?
A friend gave me a photo she’d snapped of me recently. She’d taken it before I’d had a chance to wake up. And I looked horrible. In it, I wear an old sweatshirt that had belonged to my mother, and I’m eating out of bowl while standing up. My hair is parted down the middle.
Not actual photo. That one has been burned.
What she gave me was a snapshot of my life. While I do shower most mornings and put on make-up, what I don’t take care of is me. My body. And as I looked at the picture, I realized that’s not what I wanted my life to look like.
I don’t mind aging; I mind weakening. While my body was never perfect before, I owned it. And what I find now is it’s hard to feel you can take on the world (or your children) when your body is failing you. (I’ve thrown my back out lifting our toddler from her crib.)
Earlier this year, I struggled with getting older. Now, somehow, that thought has freed me. Because I know that this is it; this is my one shot at life. We don’t get do-overs.
And when you take care of yourself first, the rest follows. Only like most women, I put myself last on my list of priorities.
So today I am running around the lake. And I’m taking the dog, too. (I took her to the vet worried she had arthritis, but apparently she’s just carrying around too much weight. Another casualty of three kids.)
How do you put yourself first?
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