When will my life feel like mine again? (Letter #101)

Dear Parenthèse,

I'm a mum of three. Weekends used to feel like a break; now they just feel like a different shift. When will my life feel like mine again?

Eye-level view of a serene park with a single bench under a tree

Dear Anonymous,

Let's start with the advice you're probably expecting me to give you - Take care of yourself.

I'm not going to tell you that. Not yet. Self-care has its place. Take the long bath. Escape to the spa for an afternoon. You may feel better. But nothing around you has necessarily changed - you're likely to return to a bigger laundry pile. And before long, you're exhausted again.

That's why I don't want you to start with self-care. I want you to start with a pause.

Pause and ask yourself: what is all this busy-ness for?

You are a mother. Perhaps also a partner, professional, daughter, friend, organiser, cook, taxi driver, finder of missing things and keeper of everybody else's calendar. What are you living for? What matters to you in this season of your life? Don't rush to answer. Sit with it. Then ask yourself a harder question.

Does the way I'm currently living make room for what I just said matters? Because perhaps you don't need to become better at squeezing self-care into an exhausting life. Perhaps something in the life itself needs to change.

Maybe something needs sharing.

Maybe something needs lowering.

Maybe something needs stopping.

Maybe somebody else in your household needs to discover the washing machine.

Maybe the standards you've been trying so hard to maintain no longer deserve the energy they're costing you.

So this week, take ten minutes. That is (Your Parenthèse). Find somewhere quiet and write down your answers to just two questions:

1. What matters most to me in this season of my life?

2. What is repeatedly exhausting me that doesn't need to continue in the same way?

That's all. No life overhaul. Just tell yourself the truth. Because before we decide what will refill you, we need to understand what keeps emptying you. And perhaps, little by little, your life won't simply start to look like yours again. It will begin to feel like yours again.

Take your Parenthèse.

Pause. Refill.

Did something in this reply feel familiar?

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