between giving and being

Between phases of activity,
I need time. Alone time.
Me-time.
It sounds selfish, doesn’t it?
Me-time.
As if I’m asking for too much.
But it’s not selfish.
It’s survival.
It’s what keeps me grounded
after days spent teaching tiny humans,
their endless energy pulling me in all directions.
I give them my patience,
my voice,
my heart.
And then, there are the in-service trainings.
Hours of listening, learning, absorbing.
Draining my mind until it’s heavy and tired.
I walk away knowing tomorrow will demand more.

And it doesn’t end there.
There’s the family—
three teenagers
and their father.
Each with their own lives,
their own needs,
their own storms swirling around me.
There’s laundry to fold,
dinners to plan,
rides to give,
and moments to share.
I love them,
but even love is heavy
when you’ve already poured yourself out.

So yes, I need me-time.
I need to breathe.
To sit in silence
and feel like a person again.
Not a teacher,
not a mother,
not a partner—
just me.
I need to gather myself
before I step back into their world,
before I give again.

It’s not selfish.
It’s mindful.
It’s what keeps me from breaking.
Because if I don’t stop,
if I don’t pull back,
I’ll keep giving
until I’m running on empty.

Me-time.
It’s not indulgence.
It’s not a luxury.
It’s the space where I find myself,
the pause that lets me be whole again.
I owe that to myself—
and they deserve that version of me too.


—