When Did I Stop Being on My Own Priority List?

Choosing yourself doesn’t mean choosing everyone else less.

Lately, I’ve been working really hard on myself.

I’ve been more disciplined than usual. More intentional. More aware of where my time, energy, and attention are going.

And I’ve realized something.

I am the heart of a lot of things.

I’m the heart of my home. My family. My dogs. And now, Soul de Fuego.

That sounds like a lot when I put it in writing—and it is. But these are the things I am passionate about and I love. These are the people I love. I wouldn’t want a life without them.

But there’s a question I wasn’t asking myself for a very long time:

Where am I supposed to get the strength to keep pouring into everything I love if I never stop to refill myself?

I Was Running on Fumes

For far too long, I was running on fumes.

Not metaphorical “I need a vacation” fumes.

I mean survival mode!

I was exhausted. I was cranky. I was overwhelmed. And if I’m being completely transparent, sometimes I was resentful.

Not because I didn’t love the people in my life.

But because there was always something.

Someone needed something. Someone was going through something. There was another problem to solve, another responsibility to manage, another worry to carry.

And somewhere along the way, I became so accustomed to carrying everything that I stopped asking myself whether some of it was even mine to carry.

Then one day, my husband and I had an argument.

I don't even remember what started it.

But in the middle of the argument, something clicked.

“This isn't even our argument!” I said.

And suddenly I could see it.

We were carrying everyone else's problems into our relationship.

Their stress had become our stress.

Their emergencies had become our emergencies.

Their problems had followed us into our home, into our conversations, and eventually into our marriage.

We were embodying everything happening around us—and then taking it out on each other.

No more.

I remember saying those words and really meaning them.

No. More.

Something had to change.

Making Room for Us Doesn't Mean Abandoning Them

Choosing ourselves doesn't mean turning our backs on the people we love.

It doesn't mean we stop being parents, partners, grandparents, friends, caregivers, helpers, or the people everyone knows they can call.

It means recognizing that we are people in our own lives, too. And we are allowed to live it to the fullest!

Our relationships deserve attention.

Our bodies deserve care.

Our dreams deserve space.

Our laughter matters.

Our health matters.

Our marriage matters.

Our friendships matter.

Our joy matters.

We matter.

That night, I remember lying in bed thinking about how easily this had happened to us.

And I wondered:

How many other people are living exactly like this?

Then I Had a Conversation With a Friend

Not long afterward, I was talking with a friend about some of this.

To my surprise, she understood completely.

She had been putting herself at the bottom of her priority list for so long that she couldn't even remember the last time she had gone to the doctor for herself.

Her response was one so many women will immediately recognize:

“My kids come first.”

And I understood exactly what she meant.

Because mom guilt is REAL! And it can feel so heavy that it is easy to keep forgetting yourself.

But I remember thinking:

What if something preventable is happening with your health? What if you keep putting yourself last until something small becomes something much bigger? Then who takes care of your kids?

That thought stayed with me.

Because there is something deeply backwards about believing that taking care of ourselves somehow takes something away from the people we love.

We need to normalize that taking care of ourselves is part of taking care of them.

Who Told Us We Had to Earn Our Turn?

Why are we so comfortable scheduling everyone else's appointments but postponing our own?

Why can we spend money on everyone else without thinking twice, but feel guilty buying something for ourselves?

Why do we encourage the people we love to rest while convincing ourselves that we should be able to keep going?

And why do so many of us wait until we're completely depleted before deciding we've finally earned permission to stop?

Maybe the question isn't “When will I finally have time for myself?”

Maybe it's “When am I going to intentionally make room for myself?”

Because if we're waiting for life to stop being busy...

Well.

Life be lifin'! 

There will always be another responsibility. Another bill. Another school event. Another work deadline. Another family situation. Another person who needs us.

We cannot wait for life to magically hand us permission.

Sometimes we have to give that permission to ourselves.

This Is Why Soul de Fuego Matters So Much to Me

Soul de Fuego didn't come from me believing I had everything figured out.

Quite the opposite.

It came from realizing that I didn't want to live on fumes anymore.

And the more conversations I have, the more I realize how many of us need permission to say:

I love my people deeply—and I am still allowed to choose me.

That's what Soul de Fuego is about.

It's making room.

Room for connection. Room for adventure. Room for rest. Room for laughter. Room for new experiences. Room for meaningful conversations. Room for the people we love. Room for ourselves.

It's about asking:

What fills my cup?

What makes me feel alive?

What have I been postponing for “someday”?

And ultimately...

What sets my soul on fire?

Soul de Fuego is needed because too many of us have learned how to survive a full life without actually experiencing it.

I don't want that anymore.

Not for myself.

Not for my marriage.

Not for the people I love.

And not for this community we're building.

So, I'm Giving Myself Permission

Permission to take care of myself without explaining it.

Permission to protect time with my husband.

Permission to say no sometimes.

Permission to make the appointment.

Permission to take the trip.

Permission to laugh ridiculously hard.

Permission to try something new.

Permission to rest.

Permission to dream.

Permission to create.

Permission to enjoy the life I've worked so hard to build.

And maybe you need permission, too.

So consider this your invitation!

Choosing yourself doesn't mean you love them less. It means you've finally decided that you belong on the list of people you take care of.

🔥

Now I Want to Hear From You

Tell me in the comments:

When was the last time you intentionally chose YOU?

Or finish one of these sentences:

I've been putting off __________ because everyone else comes first.

I give myself permission to __________.

My cup feels fullest when __________.

My soul is on fire when __________.

You never know—your answer might be exactly what another person needs to read today.

Come as you are. Bring YOU.

With fuego,

Cindy

Founder, Soul de Fuego

Do What Sets Your Soul on Fire.