Why I Love Myself More Than I Love My Children

Don’t read too much into that title. I love my children more than I love chocolate.

But I love “Me” more.

I was 22 when I had our first child. A girl. And when she was born, I knew that I’d never loved anyone or anything as much as I loved her. She was so helpless and tiny it scared me.

At 25 I had our second child. Another girl. Like the first one, she was equally as helpless and tiny as her sister was. Only she had a big sister, who doted on her like a little mother.

At 29 I had our last child. A boy. Again, tiny and helpless. I was done with the whole ‘having kids’ thing.

I spent my 20’s having kids, and my 30’s and 40’s raising those kids. Those were days of thinking and worrying about them 24/7. Divorced at 31, as a single mom, any and everything that they needed had to come from me.

Every second of every day was spent on what they needed. That was my job.

I didn’t have a social life because, well…I’m a bit of an introvert, so making an effort to go out wasn’t something that I thought I needed.

But I did.

In hindsight, I think the fact that I didn’t consciously take care of my own mental and emotional needs then, is biting me in the ass now.