My Very Unimpressive 7 Day Self Care Challenge

I think self-care may have gotten a little out of hand.

Somewhere along the way, taking care of ourselves started looking like we need matching pajamas, an expensive skin care routine, a perfectly organized morning, fresh eucalyptus hanging in the shower, a journal with beautiful handwriting, and enough candles to make the fire department nervous.

Meanwhile, I'm over here realizing its two in the afternoon and I haven't had any water.

So, I decided my version of seven days of self-care needs to be considerably less impressive.

Because I'm always looking for little things and little moments throughout the day that help me take care of myself.

Little is the important word.

I already have enough things I'm supposed to be doing correctly.

I don't need self-care becoming another area of my life where I'm wondering if I'm failing.

So, here's my week.

No transformation promised.

No new woman arriving by Sunday night.

Just seven ordinary days where I try to remember myself somewhere in the middle of everything else.

Monday: Find Three Things That Don't Annoy Me

Technically, we're calling this gratitude.

But some Mondays, "gratitude" feels like a lot before I've had coffee.

So, I start smaller.

What's good right now?

Maybe I slept well.

Maybe I woke up before the alarm and got those precious three extra minutes where you know you should get up but you're still pretending you have options.

Maybe someone sent me a funny text.

Maybe I have food in the refrigerator.

Maybe something I was worried about worked itself out.

Maybe nobody has asked me for anything yet.

Blessings come in many forms.

I'll write three things down somewhere I can find them again.

I've learned that gratitude doesn't mean pretending everything is wonderful.

I can be grateful and irritated.

Grateful and worried.

Grateful and tired.

I'm a woman.

I'm perfectly capable of having seventeen feelings at once.

I just like reminding myself that the hard stuff isn't the only stuff happening.

Tuesday: Eat the Good Snack

This is apparently something I need to tell myself.

Eat it.

Why am I saving it?

Who am I saving it for?

What event are we waiting on?

I've done the same thing with candles, perfume, clothes, facemasks, bath products, and all kinds of little things I bought because I liked them.

Then I preserve them like they'll be going into a museum after I die.

Tuesday I'm using something.

I'm lighting the candle.

I'm buying the flowers if I want the flowers.

I'm putting on the facemask.

I'm playing the song.

I'm eating the thing I've been saving.

There doesn't have to be a reason.

One of the stranger things about adulthood is how easily pleasure starts requiring permission.

I don't want that.

Some things should be enjoyed because they're enjoyable.

Period.

Wednesday: Apparently Coffee Can't Run the Entire Hydration Department

Water.

We're drinking it today.

This shouldn't need its own day, but here we are.

I can go for hours without thinking about water and then suddenly wonder why I feel like a dried raisin with responsibilities.

So, I keep a bottle near me.

That matters because if the bottle is across the room, apparently we're now dealing with an impossible obstacle.

Sometimes I add lemon.

Sometimes mint.

Sometimes ice.

Sometimes I drink plain water like the fully responsible adult woman I clearly am becoming.

I'm not obsessed with hitting one magical number because our water needs aren't exactly the same.

Activity, weather, food, and our individual bodies all play a part.

My Wednesday goal is much less complicated.

Drink more water than I would've if I hadn't been paying attention.

Good enough.

Thursday: Move Without Acting Like I'm Training for Something

I have a complicated history with the word exercise.

Exercise can immediately make something sound like an obligation.

Walking sounds pleasant.

Dancing sounds fun.

Stretching sounds manageable.

Exercise somehow sounds like someone is about to start counting repetitions at me.

So, Thursday I'm moving.

Maybe I will take a walk.

Maybe I stretch while watching television.

Maybe I turn music on and dance in the kitchen while doing chores.

Maybe I do an actual workout because I feel like doing one.

The important part is that I'm moving because I want my body to feel good.

I've stopped believing every bit of movement has to be extreme to count.

I don't need to finish Thursday lying dramatically on the floor exhausted questioning every decision that led me there.

A little movement still matters.

And sometimes walking for a while clears out the mental clutter I didn't realize I was carrying around.

Friday: My Phone and I Need Some Space

Nothing exposes my attachment to my phone faster than deliberately putting it in another room.

Suddenly I'm very interested in knowing where it is.

What's it doing?

Has anyone contacted me?

Did something happen?

I was away from it for nine minutes.

Surely civilization has changed.

But I know how easy it is for me to check one message and disappear into my phone.

One video becomes six.

One article becomes another.

One notification becomes checking something completely unrelated.

Then I look up and realize I've spent part of my evening consuming information I never asked for.

Friday, I give myself an hour without it.

Maybe longer.

I'm not trying to prove anything.

I just want to remember that every quiet moment doesn't need to be filled immediately.

Sometimes I need to hear my own thoughts before the internet starts giving me everybody else's.

Saturday: Do Something Completely Useless

I mean that in the nicest possible way.

I want to do something that produces nothing.

No money.

No cleaner house.

No checked box.

No personal improvement.

No impressive result.

Something just because I enjoy it.

This is surprisingly difficult when we've gotten used to asking what we should be doing.

I'll sit down to relax and suddenly remember the laundry.

I'll go out for something fun and think, "While I'm over here, I might as well stop at the grocery store."

No.

Not today.

Saturday, I want the thing I choose for myself to stay mine.

Maybe that's a face mask.

Maybe it's watching television.

Maybe it's an afternoon nap.

Maybe I wander around a bookstore.

Maybe I sit outside.

Maybe I spend an embarrassing amount of time looking at things online I'm never going to buy.

I am off duty from turning every minute into something useful.

Sunday: Rest Without Starting Monday Early

Sunday afternoon has a dangerous little habit of becoming Monday's waiting room.

Suddenly I'm looking at the clock.

Thinking about tomorrow.

Making lists.

Remembering what needs to happen.

Mentally answering emails that haven't arrived yet.

And there goes Sunday.

I'm trying to catch myself when I do that.

Monday gets Monday.

Sunday gets to keep at least some of Sunday.

I'll rest.

Take a bath.

Watch something.

Sit quietly.

Think about what went well this week.

And instead of immediately making a new list of how I can become a better human being next week, maybe I can leave myself alone for five minutes.

Radical concept, apparently.

The Part I Didn't Expect

After thinking about these seven days, I realized something.

I don't need another routine that makes me feel guilty when I don't follow it perfectly.

I don't need to win self-care.

I don't need seven perfect days.

I could forget Wednesday completely, spend too much time on my phone Friday, accomplish absolutely nothing Saturday, and still be okay.

The point isn't perfection.

The point is that somewhere inside my regular life, I keep remembering to include myself.

That's what I want more of.

Not necessarily bigger things.

More moments when I notice I'm tired and rest before I'm miserable.

When I'm thirsty and drink something.

When I need fresh air and go outside.

When I'm enjoying something and don't immediately start thinking about what I should be doing instead.

Taking better care of myself may never look impressive from the outside.

That's fine.

Some of the things that make a day feel better aren't impressive at all.

They're just small moments when I stop treating myself like the one person who can always wait.

And lately, I'm trying to make myself wait a little less.

#EvolvingWomanhood