Stepping lightly here..

There is a thin line between self-care and self-indulgence for me. I was brought up to never think of myself, always put others first, beginning with my mother, my little brothers, and closely followed by the rest of the world. Thinking of myself was selfish, and that word was synonymous with evil in my mother's lexicon. I continued to believe this well into my forties, when I would wear my underpants till they were so butt-sprung that they hung around my knees rather than bear my husband's wrath for spending an extra buck. OK, I inherited this martyrdom complex from my mother, and I thought it the height of dignity. It is only poetic that I now swing in the other direction. It is more likely than not that I will throw a sweet little t-shirt or a paperback book into my cart on my weekly Costco runs. I own over 70 pairs of underpants, in varying degrees of comfort, size and cuteness. In my lifelong battle with food, luscious has won out hands down, but I am able to maintain my weight with exercise and portion-control, too. It turns out that, to be truly happy and available to all those who may need me, it is absolutely imperative that I be scupulous in my self-care. If I don't have it, there is nothing left to give. It's just that it is so difficult to find the proper balance here. So I compromise. Most of my self-indulging binges are bargains. Really.