The Discipline of Self-Care

After writing my first post, I realized something important: deciding to return to myself is one thing.
Staying with myself and caring for myself every day after that is a whole different kind of work.

There’s a version of self-care that gets sold to us in curated photos and soft captions, making it seem like something far away. Think plush robes, candlelit baths, seaside getaways, and endless free time.
I love that for whoever gets to live that life, but that’s not my reality.

Self-care for me right now isn’t about luxury. It’s about discipline.

It’s about waking up every day and making deliberate choices that say, I matter, even when it’s inconvenient or I’m tired or I’m just not motivated.

It looks like:

• Saying no to things I don’t really want to do or things that demand sacrifices I can’t afford to keep making.

• Scheduling my annual physical, and actually following the doctor's advice.

• Choosing to show up for therapy, even when the day is chaotic and every reason to cancel feels valid.

• Swapping out the deep-fried, Mississippi-style comfort food I married into for a nourishing vegan option two or three times a week.

• Watching a show just because it brings me mind-numbing joy.

• Putting the phone down at night, even when scrolling feels easier than facing my exhaustion.

• Letting people help me and not quietly "redoing" their help to meet my own impossible standards.

It’s these small choices, again and again, that slowly rebuild trust with myself.

And here’s the truth: choosing myself still feels wrong sometimes. I’m a mother. A wife. A principal. A sister. A friend. A daughter.
There are always needs. Always demands. Always someone else’s fire to put out.

So saying, “Actually, I need to take care of me right now,” can feel selfish. Indulgent.
Guilty.
But I'm learning - no, accepting that self-care isn't selfish. It’s sacred.
And it’s how I make sure I don’t disappear from my own life again.

Self-care, for me, isn’t checking out, it’s checking in.
Checking in with my body, my breath, my heart.
Noticing when I’m running on empty and choosing to stop before I collapse.
Honoring my capacity instead of testing my limits, again and again.

This is the new foundation I’m building:
A life where I don’t have to crash in order to pause.
A life where discipline isn’t punishment, it’s protection.
Where self-care isn’t something I earn, it's something I practice, daily, because I’m worth that kind of care.

If you’re in a season where self-care feels impossible, I see you.
Start with one thing. Just one.
Then another.

You don’t need a vacation to come home to yourself.
You just need to believe that you deserve to be cared for - by you, first.