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Why I Love Myself More Than I Love My Children

Donāt read too much into that title. I love my children more than I love chocolate.
But I love āMeā more.
I was 22 when I had our first child. A girl. And when she was born, I knew that Iād 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 āhaving kidsā thing.
I spent my 20ās having kids, and my 30ās and 40ās 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 didnāt have a social life because, wellā¦Iām a bit of an introvert, so making an effort to go out wasnāt something that I thought I needed.
But I did.
In hindsight, I think the fact that I didnāt consciously take care of my own mental and emotional needs then, is biting me in the ass now.