A Gift for Mom! 🤍

Maybe the best way to practice self-care is to care less.

About what everyone else thinks. About who likes you and who doesn’t. About how you compare to the next woman in line. About what all the other moms are doing and how they’re doing it. About everyone else’s definition of success.

About the expectations that society piles onto your shoulders. About a Pinterest-worthy home or popularity. About wearing the right clothes or driving the right car. About matching furniture or coordinating outfits for your kids—about trying to send the message that your life fits perfectly into a box on Instagram.

About keeping up appearances. About creating the illusion that your family is picture-perfect at all times. About the idea that your kids must forever be entertained. About the school they go to or the activities they participate in. About what people think your kids should or shouldn’t be doing. About what people think YOU should or shouldn’t be doing.

And honestly, maybe the best way to practice self-care is to care just a little bit less about yourself.

There is freedom in letting go. In not getting so wrapped up in your appearance, your title, your status, your accomplishments (or lack thereof) that the pressure of it all steals your joy. Your calm.

You don’t have to live up to everyone else’s expectations. You don’t have to please everyone. Their happiness isn’t your responsibility. And frankly, you don’t have that kind of power anyway.

Respect yourself and respect others. Be kind to yourself and be kind to others. Be compassionate. Reach a hand out to those who need it. Serve those whom you are called to serve. Raise decent human beings. But don’t compare. Or compete. Or do it all. You do not have to spend precious time or consume precious brain space caring about all the things this world says are important, but aren’t actually.

Maybe self-care is not caring about what everyone else is doing and simply taking a look at what you are doing—and if what you are doing is right, let that be enough.

Maybe the best way to practice self-care is to stop caring about worldly expectations–to stop trying to live up to them all. To stop fretting about all things minor. To stop rushing through your days in a tizzy trying to keep up with everyone else. You don’t have to care about all the things that won’t matter in a day, a year, a hundred years–and there are a lot, right?

Maybe the best way to practice self-care is to care less about what’s happening on the outside and pay more attention to what’s happening on the inside. Maybe it’s not manicures and massages. Maybe it’s being still, praying, and listening expectantly for God. Maybe it’s shutting out the noise and simply listening for the only voice that matters.

Originally published on A Beautifully Burdened Life by Jenny Albers

So God Made a Grandmother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

Order Now!

Jenny Albers

Jenny Albers is a wife, mother, and writer.  She is the author of Courageously Expecting, a book that empathizes with and empowers women who are pregnant after loss. You can find Jenny on her blog, where she writes about pregnancy loss, motherhood, and faith. She never pretends to know it all, but rather seeks to encourage others with real (and not always pretty) stories of the hard, heart, and humorous parts of life. She's a work in progress, and while never all-knowing, she's (by the grace of God) always growing. You can follow her on Facebook and Instagram.

I’m Constantly Waiting for the Metaphorical Axe To Fall

In: Living
Woman worried with head in lap

I knew people died. I just didn’t think it applied to us. Mortality met me in grade two with a punch to the gut when my teacher confirmed casually that, yes, everybody dies. What do you mean, everybody dies? I frantically thought, but kept my question to myself. Up until that moment, I had quietly believed my family was exempt from that fate. I thought death was a monster that only took other people and left my family alone. They say all panic has an origin story, and mine began shortly after that realization, fueled by a disconnected phone cord...

Keep Reading

The Apology You Deserve May Never Come

In: Living
Woman standing in field wearing hat

“You have to accept that you will likely never get the apology you deserve.” When my therapist said those words, I felt everything at once-anger, resentment, heartbreak. It was as if the air had been pulled straight from my lungs. Because accepting that truth meant letting go of something I had been holding onto for a long time: the hope that one day, it would all be acknowledged. My family was deeply wronged. Not in a way that can be brushed off or easily forgotten, but in a way that cut to the core. There were lies wrapped in deception,...

Keep Reading

To the Little Girl With Pink Flowers on Her Shoes and Courage in Her Heart

In: Living
Little girl in t-ball outfit

To the little girl with pink flowers on her white shoes and lacy fold-down socks, down and ready, tee ball glove in hand, teeth marks worn into the top. The Pittsburgh Pirates hat from Uncle Dave, a sign of camaraderie. A part of something bigger than herself. A too-long, locally sponsored t-shirt, tied up with a ponytail. Jean shorts and a belt. The type of ordinary only childhood can be. When ordinary is more than enough. No one can tell in this picture that you were scared. That you didn’t feel ready. That behind that tiny-toothed grin you were holding...

Keep Reading

Keep Searching for the Perfect Pair of Jeans

In: Living
Woman shopping for jeans

I don’t know about you, but finding a good pair of jeans has always felt like a process to me. These are too tight. Those are too loose. They fit my thighs but bunch at my hips. The dreaded waist gap. Too short—high waters. Too long, and suddenly you can’t find your legs. Before you know it, you’re ordering your fourth pair and eyeing a fifth. A woman on a mission. And still, as I stand there looking in the mirror at everything that doesn’t quite work, I just know there is a perfect pair out there for me. Somewhere....

Keep Reading

Why I Had My Benign Breast Lumps Removed

In: Living
Doctor examines mammogram images

My journey with monitoring benign breast lumps began in July of 2020 when my OB-GYN found a lump. I was sent home with an ultrasound referral. I called immediately after I got home and asked for the soonest appointment at any location. I had a young son, and was absolutely terrified. They got me in at the end of the week. My husband was on vacation that week, and what should have been an enjoyable family time was plagued with worry. At the ultrasound appointment, they saw two small lumps. I was told these were “likely benign” and was given...

Keep Reading

Repotting Myself: What My One‑Armed Grandpa Taught Me About Growing Anyway

In: Grief, Living
Black and white photo of older man in garden

I was never meant to be a plant person. I’m the woman who can kill a succulent on the way home from the store. Once, a fern sighed in my direction and gave up. That is my spiritual gift. My grandpa Dominic would have laughed—hard. He loved to laugh. And sing hymns passionately in Italian. He was an Italian immigrant who lost his arm working in a mill, and still, he woke up every morning and dressed like dignity itself. He shopped for my grandma. He fixed what was broken. And he tended the biggest, happiest garden you’ve ever seen....

Keep Reading

Farewell To the Bus Stop Moms

In: Friendship
Four women pose in residential street

It seems like just yesterday I was writing a piece about my last baby going off to kindergarten. I poured my heart out into words about how she was going to find her place in the world, and how I was going to find a new sense of belonging. I wrote, “I was able to find a bit of ‘me’ again. She has barely left my side in almost six years, so her absence is still fresh and foreign. But I know her jubilant little self will be just fine. And just like that, she’s on her way. And so...

Keep Reading

May is Maternal Mental Health Month, and So Many Moms Are Quietly Drowning

In: Living
Mother with baby strapped to chest

I’ve given birth to four beautiful boys and lived through four postpartum experiences. Each one has been different, yet there are familiar threads that run through them all. In the first couple of weeks after my first baby was born, I felt carefree…until that bubble was popped. My newborn got sick and was admitted to the PICU at a children’s hospital 30 minutes from our home. At one point, doctors mentioned the possibility of meningitis, but after many tests and a several-day admission, we were sent home. When we were discharged, a doctor left me with these words, “It’s your...

Keep Reading

The Hard Truth about Friendship in Your 40s

In: Friendship
Two people fishing on a dock

No one can really prepare you for how much friendships change in your 40s. We expect life shifts—kids grow, schedules fill, jobs demand more, and aging parents need us in new ways. Time becomes tighter, priorities change, and naturally, friendships have to adjust. That part makes sense, right? But what doesn’t get talked about enough is the quiet, hard shift, the one where it’s not just time or distance creating friendship gaps, but something deeper. What happens when you look around your “table” and realize it no longer feels like a safe place to land? What happens when you start...

Keep Reading

Sisterhood is So Special

In: Living
Vintage photo of sisters in pajamas

There’s something about sisterhood that’s so special. It’s having someone who’s seen every version of you—every awkward, messy, beautiful version—and loves you through it. Someone who holds a piece of your heart in a way nobody else can. Someone who remembers the little things that made you…you. And my sister? She’s that person for me. We couldn’t be more different. She’s extroverted, the life of the party, spontaneous, the more the merrier, always seeing the good in everything. I’m the cautious one, the loner, the guarded one, more comfortable sitting on the sidelines. I’ve always admired her and secretly wished...

Keep Reading