The evolution of self-care

I chuckle thinking about how my idea of self-care has changed so radically across the decades.

In my 20s, as a fresh graduate and unmarried working adult, taking care of myself meant booking my next holiday out of the country, getting a hair salon treatment that was too expensive for my paycheck and binging on whatever was my obsession at the time (whether it was food or entertainment). Self-care was Escape. Escape from a work life that felt too rigid and oppressive for the young version of me who hadn't yet learnt to speak her truth.

I became a mother in my early 30s. It was baptism by fire, the darkest dark night of the soul I would probably ever experience. Thankfully I came out of it, scratched up but still moving forward. Self-care took the shape of honesty (with myself and others), finally embracing help without feeling like a failure and seeking tools to manage chronic anxiety and stress. When the boys finally both went to preschool, movement became my medicine, challenging and overturning all pre-conceived notions of my own body - too weak, too old, too stiff too timid.

Somewhere along the way, with my husband's support at home, I even made it to a week-long solo trip in Nepal. What was different this time though was how the trip felt less like an escape from life itself and more a mental reset from the constant overstimulation of motherhood.

Now in my 40s, self-care has again shape-shifted. It isn't a fancy massage (though that's awesome) or a holiday on the other side of the planet or any grand gestures really. It has become a moment-to-moment decision to treat my physical, mental and emotional bodies with respect and kindness.

When I catch myself feeling low or fatigued, the question I ask these days is, "What does it look like in this moment to love myself?" Sometimes it is stopping doomscrolling to pick up a book or making tea and watching it steep. It is insisting to take 15 minutes for a quiet sit before entering work mode. Choosing to let go of resentment, even if there is a hard conversation to be had. And perhaps, the most important of all, recognising that if you do something different (even possibly irresponsible in your eyes), the world continues to spin, your environment adapts and the people who love you will still continue to do so.

I don't always practise what I preach unfortunately. But truly and deeply knowing my bad habits and doing my best to uplift my energy on the most challenging days - parenting and perimenopause do not go well together - count as a battle half-won. And when all else fails, it pays to simply let go and pray. Fingers crossed, we live to try again another day.