Who’s at the Top of Your Priority List?

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I get it.  We’re all busy.12040056_s

But for many of us we are busy being everything to everyone else, whilst neglecting ourselves.

In most moments, we are all of the following at the same time:

Mothers

Daughters

Taxi Drivers

Boo-boo Kissers

Chief Financial Officers

Counselors

Mentors

Chefs

Maids

And, in at least one time in history you were expected to be a magician and pull a rabbit out of your ass.

But when I look at that list, I see a lot of what we do for OTHERS and nothing that we do for ourselves.

 

Now I don’t want to come off as some 4-year old snot-nosed leech, who inherently believes the world orbits solely for their own vain, self-centered existences.

 

But I often wonder when my ego-centric mannerisms left my side.

 

When Was It?

Was it in kindergarten when I was inundated with cute little phrases aimed at making me show empathy for my fellow man. Even through the little bastard stole my crayons.

 

Was it in the fifth grade when I finally stood up to the male bully and penned this incredibly awesome paradoy to Aaron Hall’s song, I Miss You, entitled I Hate You! That resulted in my mother promptly being called and eventually ended up with me having to apologize to the beast; even after months of complaining to the teachers that his advances were unwanted, only to be met with that damned statement, “Boys will be boys”. *that was an awful good parody letter though, damn good* (nodding)

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Or was it after my sexual assault when I donned my battle gear and set out on a mission to prove my worth and value to every man I entered into a relationship with?

 

Ohh.  I got it! It could have been Sunday December 13th, 2009 at 6:47pm after 48-hours of labor and finally pushing out a living, breathing hybrid of my husband and myself; who automatically came out screaming, “Pay attention to me! I need you!”

 

It Doesn’t Matter, It’s All Excuses

Whenever it was I got it stuck in my head that everyone else’s needs and feeling came before  my own.

 

With my husband in the Armed Services, I am always stepping up to the plate to “get shit done”.  I’m the queen of getting shit done!

 

However, it often feels that the 86,400 seconds in every day just aren’t enough to cover the needs of what needs to be done (work, commuting, cooking, cleaning, shuttling the baby around) + the optional stuff I know I should be doing (promoting my business, exercise, taking the dogs for walks).

 

I know is sounds foolish that 1/24th of a day I feel takes too much from my family.

 

Literally, I’m saying to myself everyday that you are not worth 60 minutes, 3600 seconds. Now that I see it on paper, it appears more silly than I thought.

 

That’s why I am making a declaration to put myself back at the top of my priority list, guilt be damned! Starting with my health. I’m not bad, but I know I could be better.

 

No one keeps me from the gym or exercise but me.  My daughter is not complaining that I spend too much time at the gym. Except for the one time in pure diva-esque fashion she yelled, “You never have time for me!” (You would think she was an extra on The Young and the Restless.

Below is the beginning of my journey.  My goal is to be on stage next year at a fitness competition.  I just want do it at least once just as another testimony that I AM FEARLESS.

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I recommit myself to myself. The will take nothing away from my family. In fact, it may very well improve my family dynamic.

 

My interactions with my husband won’t be plagued by my body-issues. In addition, I will be setting up a healthy environment for my little girl who will get enough of the media stating the way she is isn’t good enough; without me putting the cherry of reinforcement on top.

 

I’ll keep you ladies posted on my journey.

 

This is another step forward from the inner musings that, “I don’t matter.”

 

As stated before, the neglect of oneself is a side affect of “we”. One we don’t have to live with.

 

If you could steal 1-hour a day what would you do with it? What’s stopping your from stealing that hour?

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