Self-care is an individual decision and responsibility, and it’s within our control. So, what makes it so hard? Often, it’s the abundant needs of family, friends, profession, and self-imposed expectations competing with limited time, money and energy to meet those needs. The demands of us and by us can be more than humanly possible to meet. So where do we draw the line?
It feels like the time or effort needed to take care of ourselves means we need to fail something or someone. Deciding to take care of ourselves at the cost to someone else feels selfish. Yet we don’t live in a vacuum, and our actions or inactions affect others. External support is a reasonable need to grant ourselves permission to do what’s good for us.
Most of the time, I’m the harshest critic of my decisions and the most demanding of what needs to be done. No one else is usually complaining. I’m comparing myself to a fictional ideal that might not be possible for anyone, even if they’re in perfect health.
I’m reminded of the scene from the 1996 movie Jerry Maguire where sports agent Jerry (Tom Cruise) begs athlete Rod Tidwell (Cuba Gooding Jr) repeatedly to, “Help me help you,” in hopes of helping them both.
I hadn’t remembered the rest of the scene. Rod laughs at and mocks Jerry until Jerry walks out frustrated. Rod calls out after Jerry, “You see, that’s the difference between us. You think we’re fighting, and I think we’re finally talking.”
I like that shift in approach. When I notice feeling unnerved, unsettled or stressed, what’s going on? Do I identify and heed my needs, or do I push through? Am I fighting myself, or am I finally talking to myself?
Once I stop fighting myself and acknowledge I need to make a change, looking at my situation and needs as if it were a loved one’s experience helps me gain perspective. I imagine a loved one coming to me for advice. They perfectly describe living with my situation, challenges and needs, and they ask what they should do. What would I suggest?
If they respond as I would, they resist my logical and obvious recommendations. They explain all the reasons why they can’t do what I think they should do. And the problem remains.
When I’m honest with myself about why I’m resisting, it’s embarrassing how stubborn and illogical I’m being under the guise of strength and responsibility. I know what I need, and there is a way out of it that doesn’t demand I be a martyr. The answer for what I should do isn’t complicated or a mystery.
With the holiday season upon us, this year I’m committing to a few specific actions to combat overload:
- Check in with myself daily, and honestly assess how I’m doing.
- Do something each day that I’d qualify as self-care. If I’m resisting doing what I know would be best for my needs, it warrants self-examination.
- Who or what is stopping me?
- Why is it a problem at all?
- Is the stress worth the reward?
- What is the cost of ignoring my needs?
Whether large or small, stress and burdens carried alone are brutally difficult. They become manageable when shared. If we mutually work toward helping others help us, we’ll all be better off.
Post Script If you’re interested in watching the scene described and not opposed to nudity, here’s a link: Jerry Maguire: Help Me Help You 🏈 (MOVIE SCENE) | With Captions