Self Care is My Responsibility.

I have never been especially good at self-care. I have become especially bad at it since getting married. It is not the fault of my marriage. In fact, my husband has been a vocal proponent of self-care. I just thought that my job as a wife was to sacrifice and be selfless, and it is, but I have been doing it to my detriment. I could not figure out how to separate self-care from selfishness, and I did not want to be selfish, so I tried to give up self-care. As you can guess, it did not work out well. I am learning that not practicing self-care actually leads to the kind of selfishness I wish to avoid.

I have many times felt like I needed permission to practice self-care. When I would vocalize this need, my husband would tell me that it was not a need. He already gave me permission. In fact, he encouraged me to practice self-care. That freed me up a little, but I still didn't endorse the idea. It felt selfish practicing self-care when I had responsibilities to do. I knew I had permission to do self-care, but I thought I needed time. Then my husband started intentionally doing more and more for me to try to give me time. I felt ashamed and not good enough to take time away from our daily duties, so I kept working. Self-care could wait.

I have put self-care on the back burner to the point that I do not function well, that my husband has to command me to stop doing what I am doing and stop. That is not the best way to have to practice self-care. It is a selfish way to practice self-care, too, because my actions are requiring my husband to stop what he is doing to take care of me. I have realized that although it is his biblical job to take care of me as the leader of our home, I also have a job in my care, and that is self-care.

My husband gets to know me better and better the longer we are married. He cannot read my mind, though. Only I know what is in my head. Only I know the mental signs that I need a break. To push past them is to disconnect from my body, leaving my head hanging and myself a less functional whole (Rosmarin, as cited in Macpherson, 2021). Only I know what I really need in a moment of tension or stress. My husband can offer ideas, but I have to make the choice. Ultimately, if I am not practicing self-care, I am emptying my husband (and possibly others; he is just the closest to me) of resources instead of giving to him, which is what I am supposed to do as his wife and helpmate.

I have come to the conclusion that self-care is my responsibility. I have to practice self-care to avoid selfishness and to be able to sacrifice. As marriage and family therapist Erin Smalley (2021) says, "It’s my job to make sure I'm full so I’m not serving up leftovers." Leftovers are great in terms of making for a quick bite to eat, not so great in terms of sustenance. My marriage needs sustenance. I need sustenance.

I may not be good at self-care. I may be rusty and out of practice. I may not always know what I want or need. I may feel guilty. These are all excuses, though. The fact is that I need an appropriate amount of self-care, to function in my calling as a wife, and beyond. So here's to learning, to following my husband's leading (he wasn't so wrong about self-care after all) and to getting better, for me and for my household as we seek to serve the Lord (Josh 24:15).

References:

Macpherson, G. (Host). (2021, August 16). "Dr. David H. Rosmarin. Ancient Jewish Wisdom for Modern Mental Health." In The Trauma Therapist. https://www.thetraumatherapistproject.com/podcast/dr-david-h-rosmarin-ancient-jewish-wisdom-for-modern-mental-health

Fuller, J. (Host). (2021, September 7). Listen to the metronome. [Audio podcast episode]. In Focus on the Family Marriage Podcast. Focus on the Family.

Narratives

Narratives. The stories we tell ourselves that may or may not be true, but that influence the way we think. For example, I struggle with feelings of worthiness. The narratives attached to my labeling of myself as "unworthy" are layered. Growing up, I believed that my parents wanted me to be different. That wasn't exactly true, but what stuck with me is that I wasn't good enough. My narrative of long-term singleness is another narrative that spoke into this lie. I felt not good enough to be chosen. Unworthy of love. My husband chose me and I chose him. I thought that would fix my narrative, but somehow it didn't. I feel unworthy in my marriage, like I can’t do enough, be enough, earn enough to deserve my husband’s undying love and favor. I question (internally and externally) if he settled. He tells me he didn't, but I struggle to fully believe him. Sometimes I consciously and subconsciously create scenarios that contribute to my narrative, putting people in positions where they are destined to fail. At it's core, I have shame issues. That narrative overshadows my actions many times, but the thing is, I can fight against the narrative. I can work to write a new narrative.

It takes effort to argue against a long ingrained narrative, but I can choose to do it. I can combat thoughts of unworthiness by remembering times when loved ones have told me I am worthy and cared for. I can practice vulnerability and share with loved ones when I am struggling and need them to help me right my thoughts. I can look for exceptions to my old narrative and write them in a journal for future reference. Perhaps most powerfully, I can go to the enduring Word of God, the Bible, reading and memorizing who God says I am: loved, beloved, delighted in, worth sending Jesus to die for; accepted. I can engage myself in His narrative.

Part of God's narrative for me is hard, though. I am a sinner. Unworthiness is part of that narrative. On my own, I am not good enough. I can never be, good enough. That's the way it's supposed to be, because I’m supposed to find my identity, my worth, my purpose, and my value in Jesus Christ. Only Jesus has enough good things to satisfy my debt of sin, justify me, and make me worthy. When I understand that narrative, I can start to correct my narrative of shame. I can allow God to have His way with me and even allow Him to write my narrative. I know that His narrative will be a true story, one I don't need to combat, but rather one that I can embrace and live out.

Do it to Make Him Happy.

(Woodwork by my very talented father-in-law)

I struggle with people-pleasing. You may have gathered that. I thought I had gotten better at people pleasing and then marriage. Ah, marriage. Oh, how it sanctifies.

My husband loves me. I know he does. He doesn't really have expectations of me. Oh, but I do. I want to please my husband. I have the expectation that I can do that. Sometimes I can, but more often than not, I fail. Either I fail to carry out what I want to do, or my husband fails to respond in the way that I expect him to in order to show he is pleased. I feel many emotions as a result: sadness, fear, anger, grief. Lately, though, I have been convicted about my motives. They aren't all right.

I want to please my husband because I love him. Love is a good motivation. I want to please my husband because I want him to be happy. Desiring the happiness of another is also good. The problem is that the happiness of others in not always in my control. Then there is my desire to please my husband to prove to myself that I am a "good wife," that I have value and worth, really, that I was worth marrying. Marriage is about more than worthiness, but that is a struggle that keeps coming back to bite me.

More times than I can count, I have been disappointed in the way my husband has reacted (or not reacted) to something I have done. It's not that he has done anything wrong or that he even knew I wanted a reaction. He just didn't have one. And then I realize: I'm working for the wrong approval.

The Apostle Paul wrote in Galatian 1:10, "Am I now trying to win the approval of human beings, or of God? Or am I trying to please people? If I were still trying to please people, I would not be a servant of Christ" [New International Version]. Ouch. I've been trying to please my husband without remembering to please God. Pleasing God always needs to come first.

Gretchen Rubin wrote in her book The Happiness Project about a time she tried to do everything she could to make her husband happy. In my interpretation, it made her kind of bat-crazy. In the end, she decided that the best thing she could do for her family was to be happy herself. In my case, the best I can do is do everything unto the Lord, and in return, it might make both my husband and I more happy.

So where do I need to go from here? I need to seek to do everything unto the honor and glory of God. I am doing things to make Him happy, instead of trying to gain my husband's pleasure, which  can become an idol. When I find myself wrapped up in my husband's response, or disappointed by the lack thereof, I seek to correct my focus by saying to the Lord, "I'm doing it for you. I do this for you, Lord." Seeking to do the right thing for the right reason isn't always easy. It requires some heart searching and some heart turning. But I'm doing it all for Him.

Self-Improvement

I recently completed Paige Schmidt's 10-day Authentically You course. (I'm kind of a self-improvement junkie and jump on courses that are free and not gimmicky-which Paige's aren't.) In completing the course, I kept coming back to the idea of approaching self-improvement from a stance of worthlessness versus from a place of worthiness. Let me explain.

When I try to improve myself to gain worth, I fail. I can never do enough to please my perfectionist self. I can never do enough to please my judgmental peers. I can never do enough to gain complete, unmerited favor with my family. Simply put, I am not enough to please people 100% of the time. So improving myself to gain approval isn't going to work.
On the other hand, if I operate from a place of worthiness, I work to improve myself because I love myself and want my life to be better. When I learn to love myself more, I get out of the head space of trying to earn worth. When my life is better, I have more energy to attend to the needs of other people and serve them well. So operating from a place of worthiness is not necessarily selfish or self-centered. How do you operate from a place of worthiness? That is probably another post for another time.

For now, I encourage you to stop trying to improve yourself from a place of worthlessness. Stop saying:

"I'll be beautiful when I lose X pounds." 
"I'll be strong when I gain X pounds of muscle."
 I'll be happy when I get a promotion at work."
"I'll be content when I find a person to marry."
"My life will be worth something when I make a difference."

Don't stop working towards self-improvement and healthy goals. Just approach them differently. Approach them from a place of worthiness:

"I'm trying to improve my nutrition so that I'll have more energy to play with the dog I love."
"Weight-lifting is a good habit to have for relieving stress."
"I know I am capable of moving up the ladder at work and am working toward it."
"I love myself and can't wait to find a person to share love with for the rest of my life."
"I believe I have something to give to the world, so I work with integrity and hope."
Changing our self talk requires work. But I think that work with be worth it, and actually contribute to more success with our self-improvement projects.

Thoughts? Comments? I'd love to hear you motivate yourself to work towards self-improvement. Which strategies work, and which don't?