I was having a drink with the young girl I had just sold my skydiving gear to. She asked me why I was selling it, and I told her I had three reasons. One, I had a few malfunctions which lead to pulling my reserve parachute and it made me feel like the universe was telling me to keep my feet on the ground. Two, I wasn't ready to tell many, but I was expecting another baby. Three, I had gained a ton of weight and it wasn't safe for me to fly that size parachute anymore. I felt defeated, depressed and sad to see it go. She then proceeded to lecture me that I should concentrate on taking care of myself. She noticed I had "let myself go" and she was giving me suggestions on how to get outside and get more active again. I shook my head, defending myself that she didn't understand what being a mother of four was like. She didn't understand all I was juggling. She didn't understand what it meant to put your children first.
I spent the next several years in a body I didn't recognize. My energy was growing less and less, and my discomfort growing more and more. This isn't what a former ballet dancer/beauty queen/skydiver looks like, is it? I was a heavy 225 pounds in body, and spirit. To make things even more challenging, I was met with serious foot issues that needed major surgery. All of the extra weight was just pounding on the pain. I found myself avoiding the mirror, standing behind my beautiful kids in every photo, and only finding my own beauty only in their eyes.
Obviously change was needed so I started researching options and learned about a great nutritional cleansing program. I kept thinking about the flight attendant speech when you take flight. They tell you to put your oxygen mask on first, and then help your child? Wait, what? Mothers struggle with this idea daily. Of course we are going to help our kids first.
I was no different. It seemed so incredibly selfish to spend this extra money on myself when we struggle to make ends meet. It felt even more selfish to make time for myself every day before everyone else. I felt guilty because the one job I'm really good at (mom-ing) would now be getting lower priority on my never ending to-do list.
I had a moment that changed my perspective. My toddler ran out the front door, started running up our busy city street, and I could not catch him. As I hobbled after him, screaming and yelling and praying a car didn't come, I was hit with a rush of emotion. He finally retreated, unharmed, and we walked back together hand in hand as tears streamed down my face. His cherubic face and eyes piercing my soul, he said, "Don cry mommy, I saw-wee."
I felt like I had been struck by lightning. It turns out that focusing on myself, making time for me and spending some family money on specialized nutrition is not selfish. The discovery was that it was actually essential to maintain my ability to perform my most important job: Mom.
This decision was a good one. My family is thriving and accomplishing things we didn't think we could. I have enough energy to keep everyone on track, including myself. My husband is inspired. My kids love having mommy in the pool or on the slide or hiking up a hill. I now stand next to my kids instead of behind them. I can out run my toddler. Everyone is reaping the benefits of my improved health.
Now it isn't just the kids that have happiness in their eyes. We all do.
I'm giving you permission. Be selfish.
