How to care for oneself?
I was 38 when I started truly caring for myself. When I started learning how to care for myself. This is not a wanky post on self-care. There’s enough of those around. This is a post on actually how to care for oneself as an act of survival when you realise that a) no-one else will, can or should do it for you, b) that you want and need to, and c) that you are ready to.
I’ll be really honest, blunt and transparent here about what I have done to care for myself, so that you can see what that looks like in the reality of my world. Turns out, caring for myself looks like this:
I learnt how to bake sourdough. I got back on the horse after a failed attempt a year prior. And with the kindness and support of a neighbour (a complete stranger), my first re-attempt was a success.
I invested in good quality underwear that supports feminine hygiene and is good for my body.
I gazed at nature once a day, whether it was the tree or bushes around me or the water as I drove. I made eye contact with, and used my fingers to touch, nature as much as possible.
I picked flowers whenever I walked into town or around and kept them in small jars around my house.
I said no to invitations or activities even if I had ‘spare time’. I no longer overcommitted and jam packed my calendar with back to back activities.
I detoxed from sugar.
I cleansed my wardrobe from items that were no longer being used, so that others may enjoy them and I could make room for the new.
I finally sewed that button back onto my PJ’s that had been missing for over a year. And that’s not bad for someone who doesn’t actually sew.
I found out how to scrub the armpit stains off of my shirts properly, thank you YouTube.
I finally got the right products to scrub off the increasing mould in my shower that I’d been ignoring and convincing myself wasn’t a big deal.
I set up bank accounts and automatic deductions, payments and transfers so that I could save towards bigger, longer term goals in the background and not accidentally overlook the demands of bills and due dates of the present.
I invested in a supportive and compassionate accountant who spoke kindly to me without pity or dumbing it down, who knew that she had expertise in an area that I didn’t and used her role with compassion and thoughtfulness.
I didn’t rush big decisions that involved big changes. I educated and informed myself on a topic, like the property market. I took time to learn, discuss, source quality mentors, and bit by bit stepped towards the discomfort of the unknown.
I took nutritious snacks to work.
I stopped buying a bottle of wine every groceries trip.
I bought a facial mask when it was on sale and enjoyed looking at my glowing skin the morning afterwards in the mirror.
I moved my body in some way each day as much as I could, whether it was a gym session, dance class, local bush walk or walk into town. Something.
I spoke my truth as authentically and gently as I could to those around me. I remained self-reflective so that I knew what it was that needed to be said, and compassionate enough to say it from the heart.
I protected the precious first part of my morning as me-time, to do whatever I wanted in: savour my coffee, short yoga on the floor, 10 minute meditation, listen to a podcast while putting makeup on, stare out of the window and stretch.
I allowed myself to love myself.
Don’t get me wrong, I am in no way striving for perfect. Trust me, I’m a recovering perfectionist. And I’m far from getting it all right all the time. But I am trying, and now that I notice what it looks and feels like when I do show actions of caring for myself, I can notice even more when those things are absent. And that is equally as helpful and informative. It allows me to notice why that might be happening and to make adjustments if needed. As long as I keep the guilt, judgement and self-criticism at bay.
When I step back and look at these actions of care, I notice some commonalities and themes. They are all related to slowing down and pace. Taking more time… and thus, care. They are also related to some of my most basic needs as a human. No frills, nothing that fancy or complicated.
When I go more slowly, I forget things less. My whole body and mind feel calmer, less agitated, and more able to handle little hiccups or changes as they arise. Ironically, I get more done. Or at least I feel like I do and if I don’t, I don’t care anywhere near as much. When I am doing these actions of care regularly, some become so automatic I don’t even notice they’re happening. It has become part of my existence. How nice, to be able to say, that caring for oneself has become part of one’s existence. It also allows me to add other things that spark joy or delight as needed, like a spontaneous road trip or to go find some live music or see a friend. Because I have more in my tank. Because I feel cared for. Because I know I’ve been looked after and that I will be looked after when I get back.
It also means I have stopped (well, far less) avoiding these actions. Most of the things in that list were things that “I’d get to at some point”. Well, now that I’m “getting to it”, my anxiety and stress has also decreased, and thus.. I have cared for myself in that way too.
I’m well aware that I speak from my position and lenses of Western, white, employed, able-bodied privilege. I certainly don’t assume that everyone can access these types of care actions, and that they are not even interesting or suitable for everyone. We each have our own context, position in community, resources and interests. What works for me may not work for you. So the encouragement then, is to find whatever works for you in the context that you are in. Little things count. How might you show one act of care towards yourself today?
