Tag Archives: self love

Thou Shalt Not Give

The Baby laid in her crib wailing. It started as a soft “Hey, parents, I’m waking up” and graduated to a “Yo! Let’s go, let’s go!” It was about 2 or 3 a.m. I had been with her around the clock, milking myself like a cow, changing diapers, entertaining blank infant stares and nursing a body slowly coming back together. The last thing I needed (and wanted) on an early Saturday morning was another dirty diaper and a sleepy breastfeeding session. So…I let her cry.

I refused to get up. At that moment, I was being selfish and quite honestly, I did not care. Her father, snoring softly beside me, was just as capable of changing, feeding and patting to sleep like me. Not only was I in recovery, but I was also smack dab in the middle of my fall semester and dealing with a heap load of OPS (Other People’s $#!%). I lay there, pretending to sleep and listened as she wailed louder and louder until YG struggled from sleep. YG had worked all day and a part of me felt terrible, but the sensible twin ordered me to stay in position. “Be selfish,” she said.

Why when we need/want to do something for ourselves do we think it is wrong? Is sanity wrong? Is loving yourself first wrong? In all actuality, it is perfectly healthy to put you first. Children do it all of the time, which is why Big Bird and the like teach sharing is caring. And it is. Sharing is an act of kindness. It is love…but, err, are we expected to be kind all of the time? It is impossible. Even Big Bird has his days.

Giving to you is more important than doling out pieces of yourself to others. Sure, what they need may be urgent and of course, some self-sacrifice might have to happen, but no one is in constant need of your everything. It is okay to say no. It is okay to not do for others so you can do for you. You are in the right for turning that love and kindness outside in.

Don’t wake up with the baby if someone capable is within three feet. Let them gladiate. Refuse to not get in the shower first. Jump in and use all the hot water. Sorry, not sorry. Rebel against not spending that measly $15 on yourself. New planner? Why yes, you will. Stand firm and wave off the dinner inquisition with a loaf of bread and a jar of PB. They will live. Do. You. It is okay. The kitchen might be a little worse for wear or the fam might have to eat ramen noodles for breakfast, but taking a moment, your moment, will create a healthier, happier you. Because let’s face it, misery invites grays and wrinkles–and we are all better off without those.

~SM

Getting Naked

I, sir/madam, am f@#% awesome. I live with millions of ideas in my head and I am not afraid to dream. Yup, I can be a tad bit selfish and self-absorbed and, yes, those are flaws o’mine (aside from a few others we’ll work on later). I am a mess (you should see my sink and my brain) and I am an aspiring neat freak who can’t quite seem to get the neat part right. I am a tumbleweed on this path called Lost and I am in a sea of many. I am up. I am down. And all of that, each little nuance, is a-effing-mazing. But…who gets to see it?

No one. God, I suppose. He sees all but mainly because He’s all up in through there regardless of what I want. I only allow people to see who I think is appropriate. Common sense tells us our parents shouldn’t see the person we are with our friends. Common sense tells us our bosses shouldn’t see the person we are under the covers with our boo. But outside of common sense…who’s naked? Like all the time—naked?

Me. Today at least. I am naked. I am stripping off the proverbial clothes and dancing in the streets (butt) crack out. If anyone does not like what they see, they have eyelids…they can close em. Today is the day I awaken from this terrible slumber—I pull back the fog of dreariness and the black hole of to-do’s and uncover.

I am a beautiful, twisted mess. I eat too much, am kind too little and drive too fast. I bust knee caps in daydreams, save babies in love and hoard paper in greed. I crave naps, swim in coffee and aspire to tri. I am a bad friend, so-so daughter, and weirdo. Where there is darkness, there is also light. They say there can’t be both but I am living proof there is. I am living proof that there really are two sides to every individual narrative. I live in proof there is a fine line to be walked and a good fight to be won.

I am f@#% awesome. Period.

~SM