The Trio & Me

4. Prioritise Me

Prioritise me! 

As part of my “40 things to do before I turn 40,” one of the very first intentions I set for myself was something that sounds simple on the surface, but feels incredibly complex when I try to put it into practice—and that is learning how to truly prioritise me.

Between working full-time and raising three children on my own, my days are filled with constant demands, responsibilities, and the feeling of being needed in every direction all at once, which often leaves very little room for me to pause, reflect, or even consider what I might need in any given moment.

For most of my life, I have measured my worth by how much I can give, how much I can carry, and how well I can hold everything together, and somewhere along the way I convinced myself that if I wasn’t giving one hundred percent of myself to every area of my life, then I was somehow falling short or failing altogether.

Because of that belief, I pushed myself beyond my limits more times than I can count, pouring everything I had into my work, into raising my children, and into my relationships, often without stopping to ask whether I actually had anything left to give.

I have always struggled with boundaries, not because I didn’t understand them intellectually, but because setting them felt uncomfortable, unfamiliar, and at times even unsafe, as though saying no or stepping back might somehow take something away from the people around me or reflect something lacking within me.

Over time, that way of living has come at a cost, and I have felt it not just emotionally and physically, but relationally as well.

The toll on my relationships has been real.

I have found myself needing a partner who can truly see me – not just the version of me that holds everything together, but the one underneath it all. The one who is tired, overwhelmed, and still healing. I haven’t needed someone to fix me, but rather someone who can sit beside me in the mess, hold my hand through it, and create a space where I don’t feel like I have to be “on” all the time.

At times, my traumas have made that difficult.

The same survival patterns that helped me get through the hardest seasons of my life have also shown up in my relationships in ways that have created distance, misunderstanding, and strain. When you are constantly in a state of overgiving, overthinking, or protecting yourself, it can be hard to fully let someone in or allow yourself to be supported in the way you actually need. And that has taken a toll.

Through therapy, I have started to understand that these patterns are not random, nor are they personal failings, but rather deeply rooted survival responses that were developed during times in my life where giving everything was not a choice, but a way to cope and to get through.

Being diagnosed with CPTSD has helped me begin to make sense of so many of the things I experience, from the constant sense of alertness in my nervous system, to the moments of dissociation, to the underlying need to prove my worth and seek validation, even when I am already doing more than enough.

When I reflect on my parenting, I can also see how my past has shaped the way I show up for my children, because I didn’t grow up with a consistent sense of family or a clear blueprint for what healthy boundaries looked like, which means I have been learning in real time, doing the best I can with what I have, and trying to create something different for them.

This year, however, I made a conscious decision to start shifting that pattern, not in a dramatic or overwhelming way, but through small, intentional choices that allow me to reconnect with myself and begin to regulate my nervous system in ways that feel safe and supportive.

I have started carving out moments just for me, whether that looks like sitting down for a solo breakfast without rushing (side note: breakfast is my most favourite meal of the day!), having a quiet coffee in the park, booking a massage, or spending time at the beach where I can listen to the waves, breathe, reflect, and feel grounded again. 

These moments might seem small from the outside, but for me they represent something much bigger, because they are teaching me that I am allowed to exist beyond my responsibilities, and that rest is not something I have to earn through exhaustion.

Prioritising me does not mean that I care any less about my children, my work, or the people in my life, but rather that I am finally learning to include myself in the same level of care, attention, and compassion that I have always given so freely to others.

As I continue through my “40 things before 40,” this next step is not about getting it perfect or suddenly having it all figured out, but about committing to the process of change, which means setting small boundaries, taking small steps, and slowly building habits that feel sustainable rather than overwhelming.

I am learning that I can say no without guilt, that I can step back without failing, and that my worth is not defined by how much I give, but by who I am, even in the moments where I choose to rest.

This is what prioritising me looks like right now, and while it is still a work in progress, it is one of the most important things I have ever chosen to do for myself.

🤍 Kobe