This morning, I was given a rare gift.
Time.
The house was quiet.
Jayce had school.
And for the first time in a while, I had a day stretching out in front of me with possibilities.
There was so much I wanted to do. I wanted to work on Aurora Butterfly. I wanted to tackle the ever-growing pile of dishes that somehow seems to multiply overnight. I wanted to catch up on laundry. I wanted to tidy the house. I wanted to sit outside in the garden for five peaceful minutes beneath the trees. And if I'm being completely honest, I even wanted to play a game on my phone for a little while without feeling guilty about it.
But instead of feeling excited about having a few uninterrupted hours, I felt something else.
Guilt.
The kind that quietly settles in your chest and refuses to leave.
My partner, Jarryd, suggested that Jayce go to school today so I could have some time to myself.
A perfectly reasonable suggestion.
A kind suggestion and supportive suggestion. Yet all morning I've found myself thinking:
"He should be home because I'm home."
Even though I know from experience that I rarely get anything done when Jayce is home. Not because he's doing anything wrong. He's simply being a child. Wanting attention. Wanting connection. Wanting to play. Wanting Mom.
Everything takes longer.
I become overwhelmed more easily. The list of things I hoped to accomplish slowly slips away.
And yet the guilt remains.
As though wanting a few hours to myself somehow makes me selfish. As though choosing myself means choosing him less.
And I started wondering...
Why is it so hard to choose ourselves sometimes?
I don't think this feeling belongs only to mothers. I think women carry this guilt in so many different ways. Maybe you're not a mom. Maybe your version looks different. Maybe you have an hour to yourself and immediately feel guilty for not using it productively.
Maybe you've been exhausted for weeks, but still feel like you should clean the house before sitting down.
Maybe you want to watch a movie, read a book, take a nap, go for a walk, colour a page, or spend an afternoon doing absolutely nothing important.
And yet there's a voice somewhere inside that says:
"You should be doing something else first."
The dishes.
The emails.
The errands.
The work.
The responsibilities.
The endless list of things waiting to be done. And the truth is, those things never really end. There will always be another load of washing. Another task. Another responsibility.
Another thing asking for our attention.
Sometimes I wonder if we've become so accustomed to taking care of everyone and everything around us that we've forgotten we are allowed to take care of ourselves too.
Not after we've earned it.
Not after every task is complete.
Not once we've reached some magical point where life is finally organised.
But now.
As we are.
In the middle of the mess.
In the middle of ordinary life.
Because I think there's something many of us have quietly learned over the years: That rest must be earned. That enjoyment must be justified. That if we're not being productive, we should at least be feeling guilty about it.
But what if that's not true?
What if sitting in the garden for five minutes isn't laziness? What if watching a movie doesn't make you irresponsible? What if taking a nap doesn't make you unproductive? What if choosing yourself occasionally isn't selfish at all?
What if it's necessary?
The older I get, the more I realise that constantly running on empty doesn't serve anyone.
Not our families.
Not our dreams.
Not our creativity.
Not ourselves.
When I think about Aurora Butterfly, that's really what sits at the heart of it. Not colouring books. Not products. Not productivity.
But permission. Permission to slow down. Permission to breathe. Permission to create. Permission to rest. Permission to find small moments of softness in a world that constantly asks us to do more.
Because life can feel incredibly loud sometimes.
And maybe what many of us need isn't another productivity system. Maybe we need a little more grace. A little more gentleness. A little more understanding for ourselves.
So today, I'm trying something different. Instead of fighting the guilt, I'm noticing it. I'm acknowledging it.
And then I'm gently reminding myself that it's okay to have needs too. It's okay to want a quiet moment beneath the trees. It's okay to work on a dream that matters to me. It's okay to enjoy a few uninterrupted hours.
It's okay to choose myself sometimes.
Not because everything else is finished.
But because I matter too. And maybe you do too.
If you've been carrying that same quiet guilt lately, I hope you know you're not alone. I hope you know that wanting rest does not make you lazy. Wanting time to yourself does not make you selfish. Wanting space to breathe does not make you a bad mother, a bad partner, or a bad person.
It simply makes you human.
And perhaps the most beautiful thing we can learn is that choosing ourselves occasionally doesn't mean loving others less.
Sometimes it simply means remembering that we deserve a little care too. 🦋
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