Choosing Yourself First Doesn’t Mean You Love Them Less

I’ve been spending a lot of time in a hospital room lately.

My dad is in the hospital, and when someone you love is in that situation, time starts to feel strange. Hours stretch. The days blur together. There’s a lot of waiting. Waiting for doctors. Waiting for tests. Waiting for answers.

And while all of that is happening, life outside the hospital doesn’t pause.

There are emails that could be sent. Work that could be done. Posts that could go up. Plans that could move forward.

But here’s the truth of what my days actually look like right now.

Sometimes I’m sitting quietly in a chair next to my dad’s bed.

Sometimes I’m helping him eat a few bites of food.

Sometimes we’re just talking.

Sometimes we’re not talking at all.

And sometimes, I leave.

I go get fresh air.

I go get food.

I go back to my parent’s house and rest.

I go for a walk.

Because I’ve learned something over the years that many womxn struggle to accept:

Making yourself a priority doesn’t mean abandoning the people you love.

It means refusing to abandon yourself in the process of loving them.

For a lot of us, especially as womxn, the conditioning runs deep. We were taught that devotion means depletion. That being “good” means putting ourselves last. That tending to others should cost us something.

Exhaustion becomes proof of love.

But that belief quietly harms everyone involved.

When we erase ourselves to care for others, we don’t actually give them our best.

We give them what’s left.

The truth is, the most grounded thing I can do right now for my dad is to remain grounded in myself.

That means stepping away when I need to.

It means resting.

It means eating.

It means breathing.

It means remembering that I am still a person, not just a role.

And interestingly enough, when you do this, something shifts.

You show up calmer.

More present.

More patient.

Not because you sacrificed yourself — but because you didn’t.

Self-priority isn’t selfishness.

It’s stability.

It’s leadership.

It’s the quiet decision to stay whole, even in hard moments.

Right now, that looks like sitting beside my dad in a hospital room while also honoring my own needs — physical, emotional, and mental.

Both things can exist at the same time.

And they should.

Because loving others well has never required you to disappear.

On Monday evening, I’m hosting a small gathering where we’ll talk more about this idea of self-priority — what it actually means, and how to practice it in real life, not just in theory.

Not the Instagram version.

The real version.

The version that applies when life is messy, emotional, and complicated.

If this message resonates with you, you’re welcome to join us.

It will be a small, honest conversation.

And right now, those are the conversations that matter most.

If interested in Monday’s conversation, click the button below.