Finding balance between taking care of myself and others has been a journey filled with challenges and revelations. Once I became a mom, my kids' needs, happiness, and well-being became my primary focus. However, this often left me struggling to find time for my own needs and desires.
The weight of my responsibilities sometimes felt overwhelming. My marriage was a source of struggle, and the pressure to be everything to everyone left me feeling depleted. It took significant time and introspection to realize that to truly care for my children, I needed to take care of myself first. This wasn't about being selfish; it was about finding the strength and energy to be the best mom I could be.
In this blog, I share my struggle to balance caring for others and myself, how I lost myself along the way, and how I am finding ways to love and care for myself.
The Challenges of Balancing Self-Care and Care for Others
I hate the phrase “self-care.” As a special needs mom, hearing advice about self-care often felt frustrating and unrealistic. It took me 25 years to understand why this was so difficult for me. When I heard those words, I would think, “No one has any idea what it means to walk a day in my shoes. Self-care is not in my cards.”
I recall the early years when Conner was a baby, right after the diagnosis. Well-meaning friends and family would suggest simple self-care activities like napping when Conner napped or joining mommy-and-me groups. However, these suggestions felt impossible under the weight of my responsibilities.
Frustration with Self-Care Advice:
Friends and family often suggested unrealistic self-care activities.
Societal pressures added stress, making it hard to focus on my own needs.
Balancing Work and Family:
Full-time work and childcare responsibilities left little room for self-care.
Evenings were dedicated to Conner’s development, leaving me exhausted.
Emotional and Physical Exhaustion:
Constant caregiving and advocacy led to severe burnout.
Neglecting personal health became the norm, resulting in physical and emotional tolls.
Once I heard the words, “Your son is deaf,” I went into a tailspin. I was working full-time because we needed both our incomes to make ends meet. I would wake up early to take the 6:30 am bus to work so I could be home at a reasonable hour in the evening. Todd would drop Conner off at daycare and head to work. I’d take the bus home after a long day of work, walk in the door, and the next phase of my day would start.
Todd and I would take turns eating while the other person took care of Conner. Conner was never an easy baby. Being deaf, he craved our touch, especially mine. He wanted to be held all the time or to be touched, or he would scream. In the evening, he would be so tired from daycare, but I had to make use of every minute—at least that’s what I thought. Conner had received cochlear implants and was learning to listen with those. But the progress was slow, and he was getting frustrated—and so were we. So, I felt more and more pressure to work with him as many hours as I could each day. That meant that after dinner, I’d spend until bedtime making every activity a listening opportunity. Bathtime, eating, playing—all well-orchestrated learning opportunities. I was amazing at it, but oh my gosh—it was exhausting. I was bone-tired. Once I finally got Conner to bed, I couldn’t think of anything else besides hitting the pillow.
I lived with this routine for as long as I can remember. I’d tirelessly care for Conner (and then soon his siblings too), try to be a good wife, search for resources and support for Usher syndrome, advocate for Usher syndrome, and plan activities that would help with his developmental delays in speech and balance. Looking back, I was doing an amazing job at doing all of that. I was the best multi-tasker. I was the best at juggling priorities and making it seem easy. I was great at hiding how tired, frustrated, scared, angry, and sad I really was. I had accepted that this was what my life was going to be like. I was good at it. I had no idea what I was doing, but I had become a fierce advocate for our kids.
I never even had a minute of the day to think about myself, about what I wanted, or about who I am. I no longer had any hobbies. My friends stopped calling because I never made time for them. I had put such a huge wall up around me that no one even knew who I was—not even me. My life felt almost robotic.
About two years ago, I came to the realization that, while I was an amazing caregiver to others, I sucked at caring for myself. I hadn’t been to the doctor for a check-up in years. I hadn’t had a mammogram. I had kept postponing my dental appointments month after month, and my gums were so inflamed. I would tire just walking up and down my stairs. My eating habits were a joke. I felt lost—dead inside.
Understanding the Importance of Self-Care
I began to understand that self-care is not a luxury but a necessity. By prioritizing my mental and physical health, I became more present, more patient, and more loving with my kids and myself. First, I had to realize that I was worth it.
The phrase “self-care” is still a trigger for me, so I don’t call it that. Instead, I became committed to finding a way to love myself enough to care for myself in the same way I cared for my kids and others. To me, it meant finding myself, honoring what I had accomplished in my life, and figuring out who I am. It also meant seeing that I had hit rock bottom. I was drowning. I was miserable. I hardly laughed anymore. I was fraught with constant guilt and doubt. Self-care, to me, was changing my self-narrative from self-doubt and shame to self-love.
I now realize that self-care is whatever you want it to be. It can be making time for those doctors' appointments. It can be walking around the block. It can be as simple as going to the bathroom alone without rocking your baby in the bouncy seat at the same time. Who cares what other people think, what other moms are doing to care for themselves? All that matters is you!
No one else can know what you need other than yourself. Give yourself grace as you change your narrative. We are all doing our best. Just telling yourself you are okay and you are a good parent, doing the best you can, is a good first step.
Strategies for Finding Balance
Finding balance is still an ongoing process, but I am committed to nurturing myself so that I can better nurture those I love. It’s taken a lot of therapy and soul-searching to figure out how to start to balance taking care of myself with taking care of others.
I think the biggest catalyst for change was learning how to let people into my life—by letting my wall down—letting myself and others really know me. Not just me as a mom, but my real, authentic self. It was realizing that sometimes “good enough” was perfect. It was asking for help without thinking that meant that I was failing myself and others. It was letting go of perfection. It was establishing boundaries, even with my kids. I simply cannot do it all, and that’s okay. My kids are going to be okay—they are okay. I love them, and I’m doing my best.
I wish I had more suggestions for you on how to balance it all—how to make time for yourself. Truth is, I still struggle with it every day. I have so many feelings around this. I’ve had to start small—like making that dentist appointment, finding one minute to myself each day to just breathe. And I’ve built from there. It’s still nowhere near enough—I know that.
I found a therapist and would see her each week. It was ridiculous—I even felt guilty for taking time to see my therapist for an hour each week. What was wrong with me? Did I really not love myself enough to allow myself to take one hour a week for therapy?
I learned to set boundaries, to say no when necessary, and to ask for help when I needed it.
I had to stop thinking of self-care as selfish. I finally realized that if I didn’t make changes, if I didn’t take care of myself mentally and physically, I might someday not be able to be there for my kids. That was frightening for me.
I’ve now built up to a 15-minute meditation at least twice a week. I’ve also cut out things that I said yes to because I thought I “should do them.” I’ve decided I only want to be around people who make me feel good about myself, who love me for who I am, shortcomings and all. I aspire to do more, but for now, that’s what I can do.
I still feel like it’s not enough. It’s not enough time for me, and it’s not enough time for the kids. But that’s okay. I have more balance in my life, and I’m trying to prioritize the things and people that matter most to me. It’s a work in progress, and I’m proud of where I am now. I feel lighter, happier, and I think my kids are too.
Encouraging Others to Support Your Self-Care Journey
The first step to making yourself a priority is to decide that you are important—that you are worth it. Then it’s about being brave enough to make your needs known to your family and friends. I was so scared to do that, thinking they would think I was selfish or see me as weak for asking for help. But I found that being vulnerable and sharing my needs and feelings is freeing. It’s freeing to admit that things are hard, that you are exhausted, that you don’t have all the answers, and that you need time to yourself so you can be your best self for others.
I’ve found that not everyone is supportive, and that’s okay. I’ve made a conscious effort to surround myself with people who put forth positive energy, who want to know the real me, and who bring me joy. As I encounter difficult situations, now that I have some time to breathe and just “be,” I am better equipped to problem-solve, advocate, and care for others. I’m no longer burnt out—running on fumes.
It’s gotten easier as time has gone on. Now people see me and tell me they see a spark in me they haven’t seen in years. I hope I’m modeling these new behaviors for my kids by letting them know that sometimes I need a mom break before I help with homework. They know that sometimes I have a bad day, feel depleted, alone, and sad. I am trying to talk about these feelings with my kids and others.
My biggest win was a few months ago. One evening after I had moved into my new home, I was laying on my bed, drinking a glass of wine, listening to country music, and singing (horribly) out loud. My teenage son peeked out of his room with curiosity and looked toward my bedroom. He knocked on my door and asked me, in his teenage way, if I was seriously sitting on my bed, drinking wine by myself, singing to myself, and laughing. Why yes—I am. And that’s the type of mom I want to be.
I want them to learn that as a parent, you have to balance a lot, and you need to put your kids first most of the time, that you make mistakes. But that doesn’t mean you need to lose yourself along the way. The night of wine and country music has changed the vibe in our house. I feel like my life is so much more in balance. I’m not getting it all done, things are dropping through the cracks, but I’m no longer in fight-or-flight mode. I can breathe again and enjoy my life more. That means the time I have with friends and family, although maybe less, is much more meaningful.
Conclusion
Finding balance between self-care and caregiving is an ongoing journey that requires patience, self-compassion, and practical strategies. Figuring out what self-care means to you requires this self-compassion. To all the moms out there who are struggling to find this balance, remember that taking care of yourself is not selfish but necessary. You deserve to be cared for, just as you care for your children. Being a special needs parent is a lifelong journey, and it scares me to think about what would happen to them if something happened to me. Reflect on your current self-care practices and consider what changes you can make to better balance caring for yourself and others. Start small, set realistic goals, and be kind to yourself throughout the process.
Take a moment today to reflect on your own self-care practices. Write down one or two simple changes you can make to improve your balance between caring for yourself and others. Whether it's scheduling a regular break, setting boundaries with certain commitments, or asking for help, commit to these changes and see how they positively impact your well-being and your ability to care for your loved ones. You are worth it, and your family will benefit from a happier, healthier you.
Please share your experiences, challenges, and tips on self-care in the comments section below. Thanks for reading.
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