The title was merely designed to spike your interest.
BUT. On a serious note.
This afternoon, after I had finished feeding my toddler his highly nutritious vegetable pasta bake, and was then eating my not even remotely satisfying lunch of a rice cracker and can of coke, I thought, you know, there isn't enough self-love* going on. Not in my neck of the woods. Maybe not in other people's either. If there was, perhaps there would be less stress, anxiety, depression, heart disease, etc., etc.
I know it sounds obvious. We hear it all the frigging time from the media, from our well-meaning friends and families. I even say it to people. By now we should be masters of taking good care of ourselves. So why then, does it seem there are still so many like me, who have plummeted to the bottom of the wellness priority ladder in the bid to look after the rest of the family?
Take care of yourself.
Wise words. I'm an (reasonably/sometimes/after coffee) intelligent person. I hear them. But somehow I don't quite believe them. Or that they apply to ME. I wave away the suggestion as though it's a nuisance insect, making excuses like I don't have time at the moment.
But really, even if I don't have time, why don't I make time for myself?
There's a good analogy someone told me: if you're in a plane crash, you secure your oxygen mask first, because if you're passed out unconscious on the floor, how can you help anyone else?
In a way, not taking care of yourself first is selfish. Ha.
So as I was drinking my teeth-rotting, butt-expanding pop I had one of those enough is enough dammit moments. I grabbed a notebook and started a list of the things I would do for myself over the next few months.
Action! Starting tomorrow. Or next week.
* "Self-love" as in looking after one's health and general wellness. Not any other kind of self-love. Not like the kinds produced when I typed "self love" into Google. Uhhh.