This affirmation holds you… and some mirror stuff.
This affirmation holds you like only you can hold yourself.
I’m a recovering workaholic, so my own needs tend to slip-off the edge of my to-do list rather than getting completed. (I’m not alone, here.) I’ll do a pile of mundane tasks to “keep busy,” before I’ll stop and ask myself what I need or how I’m feeling. Truthfully, I only check-in with myself when I’m in my code-red depleted place. (I’m working on it! I know, I know.) I pulled this affirmation because the universe is prodding enough.
I care for myself.
Mmmm, do I? Stop for this moment and imagine the attention you give to a loved one when they’re sick — a parent, grandparent, sibling, child, friend. (Go ahead, close your eyes and imagine. I’m chilling here.) Their well-being matters. There’s a tenderness and awareness in your movement. It’s beyond physical needs, care represents value for the receiver: a recognition of worth, an appreciation for them, a connection to your own comfort. This is how you’re called to care for yourself, today.
This affirmation is phrased specifically to avoid the “self-care” loophole because I can turn almost anything into a task that doesn’t really restore me. Caring for myself is a deeper listening, an observation, and a loving support for the most important relationship in my life: me. (No, this isn’t selfish — it’s vital.)
I care for myself. This is your affirmation.
Let it soak into your bones. If you’re feeling resistance, that’s ok — there’s a reason we need these reminders. I use this triple wash method to let it cover me, then I go about my day. Try it or not - I’m just letting you know it’s normal to experience a pffft and eye-roll, or the “sure honey, with what time?” feeling, when you initially read an affirmation. They’re interruptions in our grind culture so they frequently feel uncomfortable. Here’s how I align instead of grind:
1. a deep breath, then I say it aloud
2. close my eyes, breathe again, say it aloud again
3. walk myself to a mirror, look myself in the eyes, say it aloud again
(Honestly, this mirror talk can be intense. We preen and tidy ourselves in a mirror, sure, but the eye-contact-self-talk is uncomfortable. I’m probably crying by the time I walk myself to the mirror, which is just indicative of my need for this care. Let yourself be seen by yourself.)
What does it look like to care for yourself? To take your own hand, to listen to your own needs, and to give yourself loving attention?
I care for myself.
Spend the week proving yourself right.