As women, we do a lot.
We’re the thinkers, the planners, the managers, the caretakers.
We’re the chief operating officers of our households—
and oh yeah, many of us are also running businesses or
working full-time jobs.
We make sure the right people are celebrated, the logistics are handled, the feelings are considered, and the wheels keep turning.
Some of it is because we’re generous.
But often?
It’s because we don’t want to deal with the fallout if something gets missed.
So we overdo instead of asking for help.
We hold it all in our hands.
We don’t invite others in, because we already know what we want—and the consequences of things not going “right” feel too high.
We overwork.
Overmanage.
Overthink.
And we end up stretched thin—running on fumes and quietly unraveling.
We lose our capacity for joy.
We feel invisible and overloaded.
And even when we’re surrounded by people we love, we feel strangely alone.
But here’s the truth:
Self-care isn’t selfish. It’s necessary.
And I’m not just talking about spa days or massages (although those are lovely).
I’m talking about the daily care that honors your mind, your body, your limits, and your needs.
The care that says: I matter too.
Not last—but first.
Over Mother’s Day weekend, my plate was overflowing.
My dad turned 70.
We hosted a going-away party for family.
It was my mother-in-law’s birthday.
And, of course—Mother’s Day.
Oh, and both of our sons were about to move home from college.
And we were preparing to leave the country for a family trip (not fleeing from the kids—just a much-needed getaway).
It was a lot.
And I could feel the warning signs.
My mind racing. My patience thinning. The anxious energy starting to rise.
I’ve been there before—I used to live there.
Always doing. Always managing. Always on.
But I’ve learned something:
When I try to do it all, I am not the best version of myself.
I become a scorekeeper. Distant. Snappy.
Disconnected from joy and groundedness.
I turn into the commander-in-chief instead of a member of the family.
I get anxious, agitated, and sometimes angry.
So this year, I did it differently.
I asked my husband to spend Mother’s Day with his mom.
I spent the day at the beach with my oldest son.
I asked him to send the gift to my mom.
I delegated. I said what I would and wouldn’t do.
And I let it be enough.
It wasn’t selfish. It was necessary.Because when I include myself in the equation, I stay centered.
I stay kind.
I stay present.
And I create space for others to step in and share the load.
My survival response is to overdo.
But my most healed and powerful response is to include others—
to trust that I don’t have to carry it all alone.
Self-care levels the playing field.
It makes room for contribution, connection, and co-creation.
It brings out the best in everyone.
So here’s your permission slip:
You don’t have to do it all.
You’re allowed to matter.
And when you do? Everyone benefits.
With you,
Gretchen
