As I sit down to write this, it feels almost confessional.
I’m just going to say it: I am a selfish mom.
Only after many years of stumbling through this parenting gig – can I also confidently say: “And it’s what’s best for my kids.”
Yup. I said what I said.
Don’t get me wrong, my path to embracing “selfishness” as a mother has been rocky at best. Judgment and mom guilt have filled this journey. Because if you’re not constantly bathing in guilt, are you even a parent?
But let’s talk about judgment first.
I love to brunch with my girlfriends. From Dim Sum to Hot House and everything in between, we meet as often as we can.
At one of these brunch dates, I mentioned a recent trip I took sans kids. My friend said she struggled to find flights that didn’t conflict with her kids’ activities.
I explained that when that happens, I book my flight and hope for the best.
Even on my most recent trip, I explained, the best flight time might have meant moving a long-awaited specialist appointment for my kid. I didn’t hesitate to book the flight and then call and see if I could move the appointment.
Now, before anyone comes for me – because yes these specialist appointments are no joke – please note that my child does have a father who could also rearrange his schedule to take him to this appointment in my absence. But as luck would have it, when I called, the specialist had a cancellation, so I managed to schedule my son’s appointment sooner before I left.
But a long time acquaintance I was lunching with didn’t know this as she quipped – “Well, sure but you’re like the poster child for ‘selfish mom’.”
The poster child for ‘selfish mom’.
In that moment my back went up – and I was in my feelings a little bit. ‘Poster child for selfish mom’ hardly seemed aspirational. And while I vowed to reevaluate allowing this fake friend into my brunch circle, I also wanted to ensure that they weren’t right. I know what it’s like to be raised by a selfish family member who I felt never prioritized me, and I would never want my children to feel that way.
The conversation moved on, but I remained stuck in that sentence for days.
Until I wasn’t.
Because I remembered that, ‘Selfish’ is not a four-letter word.
For moms, ‘selfish’ has become a four-letter word.
For many mothers, self-sacrifice is a hallmark of motherhood. From the first moment these small humans made their way into my life, they ran roughshod over my former existence. I pushed back in small ways, trying to make enough time for the things I loved; choosing to read a good book while they napped.
I tried to keep the house looking clean-ish. I felt like a good person when I didn’t listen to my usual song choices. Faithfully tuning my radio to light music because well, kids. I said goodbye to Rihanna for a time because in no way did I need my toddlers telling the cashier, ‘bitch better have my money’ the next time we went to the grocery store.
And yeah, when I had little children, many a great sacrifice was made by necessity. For a solid three years, I had to calculate my sleep rations. Thanks to everything from teething and potty training to cold and flu season and night terrors, ‘sleep-math-o-nomics’ as I called it became second nature.
I calculated my limits. I learned I could do daily life – parent, work, be a partner, and manage a house – on 3.5 hours of sleep per night. The caveat was that I just needed to achieve one night of seven consecutive hours of sleep within a two-week span of time.
The sleep-math-o-nomics was complicated, but I didn’t think twice about it. Most of us parents don’t.
Self-preservation is anything that safeguards our physical, emotional, or mental well-being.
But here’s the thing. I don’t think I ever completely discounted the things I needed. Take sleep for example.
I knew I needed sleep. I didn’t always get much, but the most important thing I needed in order to function was sleep. For that reason I almost never let my kids sleep with me because I couldn’t sleep if they were in my bed. I also pumped breast milk so I could go to sleep early while my husband to the late feeding shift and I did not care if that impacted their latch – they got food, daddy got bonding, I got sleep – everybody wins!
Even though the things I did to meet my need for sleep were selfish – it seems this version of selfishness is deemed acceptable.
As long as folks accept your need as valid then they accept what you have to do in order to meet your need as valid. Meeting a need that is perceived as ‘valid’ is not selfish, it’s self-preservation. And self-preservation in parenting is ok.
Sometimes, when it comes to mothering the only difference between selfishness and self-preservation is this acceptance.
The fine line between self-preservation and selfishness.
I no longer have young children so my sleep is more consistent – mind you this puppy they talked me into was a blip in that. But I digress.
Now that I am able to take sleep for granted, my needs have changed. They have evolved if you will. Back then I needed sleep to function. Now, I need peace to function. For me, finding peace is self-preservation.
For me, peace is any time I don’t have to worry about getting to practice, whether the dog got her walk, or if someone missed the bus. And yeah, I might find peace on girls’ trips, manicures and spa days. Sometimes peace looks like just being alone in quiet quietness. My peace is any time I only need to focus on the next page or if the weather is nice enough for a walk.
But make no mistake getting peace is just as critical to me now, as getting sleep was to me when they were little.
I need peace now, like I needed sleep then.
Parents, especially “good mothers” – who often bear the brunt of societal expectations and judgment from the outside world – blur the fine line between self-preservation and selfishness. While to me, peace is a valid need, I have been made to understand that the sacrifices I make in service to my getting peace are not valid. Many see a mother’s peace as indulgent rather than self-preservation.
In a world where sacrificing one’s own needs for the sake of their children is glorified, very little stands between prioritizing your needs and crossing the threshold into being the “poster child for selfish moms”. People conflate selfishness with callousness. They don’t believe that a mother’s love is best shared between herself and her child.
My kids love the well-rested better version of me
I don’t think motherhood should be all-consuming. In no way do I think the reward for my efforts as a mom should be mere self-preservation.
I admit I never thought I was trying to be the perfect mother. But I figured I was the best parent I could be.
Maya Angelou said, “As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands, one for helping yourself, the other for helping others.” I think that can speak to mothers. We need to remember not just to give a hand to our children, but to care for ourselves.
The most important relationship I have is with my own well-being. I can’t pour from an empty cup, and sometimes, being selfish is the best way to ensure I have something to give.
I love doing all the things and I love my kids, but yeah – I love me. And my kids love me. Specifically, they love the better version of me they get when I am well-rested and not overwhelmed. When exhausted, I can still do good things – but when I’m not, I can do great things.
True love isn’t about ignoring my own interests. There is no need to sacrifice my well-being at the altar of motherhood.
I can be selfish and be a good parent. I can choose to be both. This is not an ‘or’ solution. It’s an ‘AND’ solution.
Loving others shouldn’t mean I can’t be my best self. I can take care of my kids and myself. I can and should be able to do both. In our world, we emphasize selflessness and sacrifice as hallmarks of good parenting, so when mothers and fathers occasionally prioritize their needs over others, it can be misconstrued as selfishness. But the negative impact of constantly deprioritizing yourself may be the loss of your own happiness. And that can’t be what is best for our kids.
I can be selfish and be a good parent. I can choose to be both. This is not an ‘or’ solution. It’s an ‘AND’ solution. And for anyone who even tries to equate my brand of selfish with neglect, please don’t.
In case it needs to be said – I’m not advocating for neglecting your kids. There is no excuse for leaving your kids in a car while going to the casino. I’m more Dalai Lama than Rupi Kaur when it comes to selfishness! The Dalai Lama said it best – “If you would like to be selfish, you should do it in a very intelligent way. The stupid way to be selfish is seeking happiness for ourselves alone. The intelligent way to be selfish is to work for the welfare of others.”
I feel like the Dalai Lama is good company to keep as someone who sees how being selfish can make me a better person. Or at least a better mom.
Just a bit of selfishness is key to me being a good parent
Ultimately, to me, being a selfish and good mom doesn’t mean neglecting my children or disregarding their needs. It means I do sometimes prioritize my own well-being and happiness alongside theirs. It means giving them what they need while setting boundaries, taking time for myself, and pursuing my passions and interests without guilt.
After taking them to practice I can take an hour on a Sunday morning to read a book and I make it clear that I do not want to be interrupted. I do go to lunch with friends and I take solo trips to avoid feeling overwhelmed. I shop for Black-owned self-care products and use them. Often.
I don’t think exhausted mom burnout is the great achievement it’s been made out to be. I will never be convinced that negating my needs is the key to a happy life or good mental health.
Intentionally prioritizing myself never comes at the expense of my children. On the contrary – I am telling my kids that I am worthy of love as much as they are. And while setting an example of self-care and self-love for my children, I am also ensuring that the best version of me shows up for them when they need me most. Good moms can be selfish sometimes – and still be good moms.
So if that makes me the poster child for selfish mom, so be it. The best thing to come out of that lunch was the realization that I need to surround myself with more selfish friends.
I am the poster child for selfish moms. And it’s what’s best for my kids.
