Photo by Priscilla Du Preez 🇨🇦 on Unsplash

We were in the middle of a workshop.

I had asked participants to share one thing they were ready to change after our work together.

One of them, seated in the back, raised her hand. Gracious and composed, in her seventies, she said:

“I’ve spent my whole life tending to other people’s needs. My husband, my children, my students, my parents. I don’t regret it, but I barely made time for myself. And now, I’m trying to make up for it. That’s what I want to change”.

She didn’t speak with bitterness. She just acknowledged the truth, like someone who carried it for years and finally found the words to say it out loud.

I’ve heard versions of that story again and again -and not only in workshops.

My mother was the same. She always put others first -her family, her clients, her friends. She did it with poise and care, but her own desires were often set aside.

And she wasn’t the exception. She was part of a long line of women who had been taught that tending to others is what made them good. That putting themselves last was a form of love. That self-sacrifice was, somehow, noble.

So we become the reliable ones. The ones who hold everything together. We anticipate what others need. We stretch ourselves. We adapt. We overextend. And eventually, we forget how to ask for anything for ourselves.

We feel guilty when we try to reclaim time -even an hour alone, a weekend off- as if wanting something for ourselves is a betrayal of the people we love.

But time for our self is not a betrayal. It’s a necessity.

You know the phrase they repeat on every single flight:

“In case of emergency, put on your own oxygen mask first.”

It’s not selfishness. It’s survival.

When we don’t put ourselves first, we run on empty. We give from a place of depletion, not from generosity. And we show up tired, resentful and stretched too thin to be fully present.

Caring for yourself isn’t the opposite of caring for others.

It’s the foundation of it.

And in a world that so often encourages women to put everyone else first, it’s important to remember that you matter too. Your rest matters. Your joy matters. Your voice, your needs, your time matter.

Self-care isn’t indulgent. It’s how we stay steady. It’s how we continue showing up with presence and love, not obligation and exhaustion.

And when you begin to put yourself first -even in quiet, everyday ways- you teach others how to treat you. You set a new standard for how you deserve to be treated. You stop apologizing for your boundaries and begin protecting the space you need to breathe.

It took me years to learn this. To say “I need this” without rushing to justify it. To choose something just because it made me feel more alive or happier, not because it made me look useful.

And I’m still learning.

One thing I know by now is this: loving yourself doesn’t make you a worse parent, or partner, or daughter, or friend. It makes you more present. More anchored in who you truly are.

So, if you find yourself worn out from being everything to everyone, ask yourself the question we so often avoid:

“What do I need right now?”.

It doesn’t have to be big. A gentle, grounded return to yourself can take on many forms. It can be a walk around the block. An hour with a book. A session at the gym. A cup of coffee with a friend.

What matters is starting.

Learning to put yourself first is like lifting weights.

It is hard at first and visible results take time to show.

You keep training. You keep trusting the process. But results are slow and you might be tempted to fall back to your default mode.

Don’t do it. Stay in the game.

Remember: putting yourself first doesn’t make you selfish.

It makes you whole.

Thank you for taking the time to read this. Sharing these stories isn’t always easy, but knowing it might inspire or comfort someone out there makes it worth it. Feel free to reply. I’d love to hear your thoughts.