Oooh it’s so hard to write about self-care. But not harder than actually doing it.

The thing is over the last month, that is, the last four weeks of the semester, I’ve done a lot of taking care of others. And that’s fine. Because I love my friends, and I care about them, and because that’s what it means to be a friend.

But the problem is, that I use taking care of others as an excuse to not take care of myself.

When I should have been looking for a job, I looked for jobs for other people.

When I should have been writing cover letters, papers, and studying for econ., I was having semi-fake heart-to-hearts with people, asking them for advice about things I already knew the answer to, in an effort to feel like I was paying attention to myself.

When I should have taken the time to think about my own life, to figure out what I want from the next two years, I was doing….well…not that. I was performing…let’s call it “self-care procrastination” - mixing up the difference between actual self-care and things that seem like self-care.

Self-care varies. Self-care is a process. And you know what else? Self-care can’t happen all the time. Because if I spent all my time taking care of myself, I’d probably have to take a semester off from school to recover. Survival and self-care are not always synonymous. But they do dovetail.

Here’s another thing I am remembering again and again: Self-care is hard. It has never been easy for most of the women of color I love and admire. It’s usually the first thing we are willing to sacrifice, because it doesn’t hurt the people around us. And when we meet other people who don’t practice self-care, and even more people who don’t even have to think about practicing self-care because it’s normalized into their daily lives, self-care starts to seem more like a privilege we can’t afford. I do have the privilege of being able to think about self-care. I have the privilege to think about practicing it, and then practicing it. So here I go.

I used to think it was just about sleeping a reasonable number of hours a night, about eating three meals a day. But it’s about doing things that make my body feel good, and getting those chores done that I put off in exchange because that little subconscious voice is telling me it’s ok that I’m living in clutter. But I deserve better for myself - I would tell a friend that, wouldn’t I? Why is it so hard to take the advice we give others?

So over the next few weeks, I’m going to do those things I’ve been dreading, that scare me, that make my stomach flip: like thinking actively about my life after graduation, like looking for a job, and like taking space from people and their relationships, and figuring out what I want from my own life and my own relationships. It means writing again - being creative while I have time.

Once again, I’ve written so much and never got around to the island metaphor. But I will - because it’s hard to write about and because I’ve been putting it off.

Until tomorrow.