For a long time, self-care felt impossible.
How do you rest when your child needs constant support? How do you slow down when life feels like a series of appointments, routines, and emotional labour no one sees?
I used to believe I had to choose my sons wellbeing over mine.
I was wrong.
Burnout taught me that caring for myself isn’t indulgent; it’s essential. Even small things mattered. A quiet cup of tea. A walk without an agenda. Five minutes of breathing before the next demand.
Self-care also meant releasing perfection. Accepting help. Letting some things remain undone.
I am still learning to listen to my own needs the way I listen to my child’s. With patience. Without judgment.
