When are you going to prioritize YOUR needs?

I have been running retreats for mothers-of-short-crazies for a while now. 

Behind every brave mother who makes the bold step of investing in herself, there are hundreds who say no. 

I’ve learned along the way not to take any rejection personally. 

However, the undercurrent tone of most of their excuses really makes me sad: “We’re moving” “I’m pregnant” “It’s not the right time” “The neighbor’s grandmother is sick” “I have to look after 5 kids, 4 dogs, 3 cats, 2 plants, and a partridge in a pear tree” 

And a million more… 

To which I usually politely answer, “I completely understand. They need you.” When really, I wish I could call bullshit and write this instead: “You need you.” And proceed to ask: “When is it going to be your turn, my dear?  When are you going to prioritize YOUR needs? 

I see the care-taking helper in you work herself to the ground in the name of everyone else’s wellbeing.

Who looks after YOUR wellbeing? 
I see you spreading yourself thin. 
I see you spinning in circles. 
I see you busily overloading your mind, your calendar, and your back. 
I see your body aching. 
I see you putting your aspirations on hold. 

Only YOU who can give yourself permission.” One of the top 5 regrets of dying women is the wish that they’d had the courage to live a life true to themselves, not the life others expected of them. 

So, mamas, if you ever want to turn me down again, here are some possible answers instead: “Thanks, but no thanks Carmela, I’m investing in myself elsewhere.” “I’ve decided to learn about something I’m really passionate about.” “I’m committed to refreshing my spirit by reconnecting with my own nature in solitude.” “I’m going on a trip to see my favorite friend/restaurant/book/hotel/beach/pillow/café.” “Thanks for your concern but don’t worry Carmela, I’m truly giving myself permission to show up for myself.” Not only would that delight me to no end, but that would also give other mothers permission to do the same. 

To live a life a little truer to themselves. 

And what fucking else could we possibly wish for, for our kids?