self-care: over 31 years of trying-ish.

This is a list of lessons I’m still learning, one vulnerable step at a time. Still healing. Still trying. Still showing up.

1. I need to learn to eat. I spent too much time starving myself. I’m in constant recovery from this habit and relationship.
   When I prioritize healthy meals, I care for myself in the most primal of ways.
   Still healing.

2. I need to heal my relationship between my body, food, the mirror—everything.
   Still healing.

3. It has to come from love.
   If it’s not from there, it’s not even healing—it’s self-harm.

4. I have to ask for help.
   I am not the only human experiencing uncomfortable emotions.

5. Putting lotion on. Sunscreen. The basics.
   Self-care.
   Brushing your teeth? Self-care.
   Making your bed in the morning? Yep, self-care.

6. Taking care of yourself also means taking care of relationships.
   And… relationships are hard work. Everyday work.
   Two-way street. Like a seesaw.

   Relationships, with your friends, with your plants, any living being—are about reaching equilibrium.
   Constantly reaching equilibrium.
   Trusting the other player.
   Playing along.
   Paying attention.

7. Taking care of myself means recognizing the pattern.
   Acknowledging.
   Applying R.A.I.N., or whatever tool you can reach from the imaginary tool belt.

   From there comes the next time. The trying.
   That, that is the self-care that matters.

   Even if I hurt myself again—sometimes I don’t.
   Sometimes, I smile.

   And that, that is bravery.
   Vulnerability.
   That is my self-care.

8. Perfectionism is a curse.
   A self-enforced curse.
   As if the “perfect expectation” you have of that thing is staring you down in the mirror, like the snakes in Medusa’s head, paralyzing the present version of you from even trying to listen to your intuition.

   Read this book, from a recovering perfectionist, please.

9. I’m still trying.
   Still showing up every day.
   I’m trying.
   Holding myself accountable.

   And I’m making myself play—lol—okay, with compassion, with love, with intention.
   But my gosh, is this thing called life complex.

   Or maybe it’s just me.

   Wait. Go back to #4.

Written with love, elsewhere,
Estefi

Here’s a quick dump of some special moments in my phone gallery: