Extreme Self-Care

Extreme Self-Care

Years ago, I read a book called The Art of Extreme Self-Care by Cheryl Richardson.

The title stopped me in my tracks.

Extreme self-care?

It sounded a little… selfish.

Maybe even indulgent.

At the time, I thought self-care meant getting a massage once in a while, taking a bubble bath, or treating yourself to a pedicure.

Nice things.

Pleasant things.

But not exactly life-changing things.

What Cheryl Richardson proposed was something very different.

She suggested that self-care isn’t a luxury.

It’s a responsibility.

And that idea left a lasting impression on me.

Because if we’re being honest, many women are experts at taking care of everyone except themselves.

We take care of spouses.

Children.

Parents.

Friends.

Coworkers.

Neighbors.

The woman standing behind us in line at Target who somehow ends up telling us her life story.

We show up.

We help.

We give.

We fix.

And then we wonder why we’re exhausted.

Somewhere along the way, many of us were taught that putting ourselves first was selfish.

But what if it’s actually necessary?

What if self-care isn’t about bubble baths at all?

What if it’s about boundaries?

What if it’s about saying no without guilt?

What if it’s about getting enough sleep?

Moving your body?

Protecting your peace?

Leaving relationships that drain you?

Choosing not to attend every event you’re invited to?

What if extreme self-care means finally treating yourself with the same kindness and compassion you freely offer everyone else?

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to believe that extreme self-care is less about pampering and more about honoring yourself.

It’s choosing foods that make you feel good.

It’s taking the walk.

Making the doctor’s appointment.

Protecting your finances.

Spending time with people who lift you up.

Taking the nap.

Ordering the salad.

Ordering the fries.

Whatever serves you in that moment.

It’s understanding that your needs matter too.

In fact, they matter a lot.

One of the greatest gifts of getting older is realizing that we don’t have unlimited time, unlimited energy, or unlimited patience.

Those resources become precious.

And precious things deserve protection.

These days, when I think about extreme self-care, I don’t picture spa days.

I picture boundaries.

I picture peace.

I picture women finally giving themselves permission to matter.

Not after everyone else’s needs are met.

Not when the to-do list is finished.

Not someday.

Now.

Because here’s what Cheryl Richardson helped me understand all those years ago:

You cannot create a beautiful life while constantly abandoning yourself.

And maybe that’s the most important act of self-care there is.

Simply deciding that you deserve the same love, care, attention, and compassion that you’ve been giving away to everyone else for years.