Showing Up for Yourself Changes How You Show Up Everywhere Else
I've been thinking lately about what it means to show up for yourself.
It's a phrase we hear often.
Show up for yourself.
Choose yourself.
Put yourself first.
They sound good.
But what does that actually look like on a Tuesday afternoon when there are emails to answer, clients who need something, family responsibilities, plans you've made, and a list that isn't getting any shorter?
For most of my life, I was very good at showing up.
For work.
For my family.
For friends.
For people who needed me.
I built a career in HR that lasted more than 35 years. I was a full-time employee, mom, spouse, daughter, friend. I took my responsibilities seriously, and being someone people could count on became part of how I saw myself.
There are a lot of things I value about that version of me.
But somewhere along the way, I started realizing there was one person I wasn't always quite as dependable for.
Me.
Not because I didn't care about myself.
I simply became accustomed to believing that my needs could wait.
I'll do that when I finish this.
I'll make time for that next week.
I'll think about what I want after I take care of what everyone else needs.
I'll rest when things settle down.
I'll make the change when I'm more certain.
And, of course, there's always something else.
Showing Up for Yourself Isn't the Same as Putting Yourself First
I've never particularly connected with the idea that we always need to "put ourselves first."
Life doesn't work that neatly.
There are times when someone we love genuinely needs to come first.
There are deadlines.
There are responsibilities.
There are seasons when we give more than we receive.
That's life.
But I think there's an important difference between not always putting yourself first and continually leaving yourself out.
Showing up for yourself doesn't mean nobody else's needs matter.
It means yours matter too.
And I've learned that distinction affects almost everything.
Showing Up for Myself in My Business
Starting my own businesses gave me more freedom than I had working in corporate America.
It also taught me something I wasn't necessarily expecting.
When you're your own boss, you can become a pretty demanding boss.
There's always something else I could be doing.
Another client to pursue.
Another email to answer.
Another piece of content to create.
Another idea to develop.
Another way I could improve something.
And the tricky part for me is that I actually enjoy much of it.
I like working.
I like creating.
I like helping people solve problems.
So I've had to learn that showing up for myself in my business doesn't necessarily mean convincing myself to work harder.
It means stopping.
It means protecting the time I blocked for something instead of giving it away because a client asks for that time.
It's deciding that something is good enough.
It's pursuing an idea because it excites me before I know exactly where it will lead.
And sometimes it's deciding that an idea I once loved doesn't fit anymore.
I'm still learning this one.
But I'm beginning to understand that a business designed to give me more freedom shouldn't require me to continually sacrifice that freedom in order to grow it.
That's a contradiction I don't want to recreate.
Showing Up for Myself in My Life
This may be where the shift has become most noticeable.
I'm in a different season of life now.
And I'm thinking differently about time.
Not just how efficiently I use it.
How I want to experience it.
Recently, I went to a concert.
That sounds incredibly ordinary.
But I've found myself thinking about moments like that more.
There will always be work I could do instead.
There will always be something at home that could use my attention.
There will always be another item on the list.
If enjoying my life requires everything else to be finished first, I'm going to be waiting a very long time.
So I'm becoming much more intentional about making room for the things I don't want to miss.
A concert.
Time with people I love.
Sitting outside.
Working in my garden.
Travel.
Doing absolutely nothing productive.
Those aren't things that happen after the important parts of life are finished.
They are important parts of life.
And showing up for myself means remembering that.
Showing Up for Myself in Relationships
This one can be harder.
Because relationships involve other people's feelings.
Showing up for ourselves sometimes means saying something another person may not want to hear.
It can mean saying no.
Asking for what we need.
Not immediately agreeing.
Allowing someone to be disappointed.
Taking time before answering.
I've started using a 24-hour pause for some decisions and requests.
It sounds like such a small thing, but it's been surprisingly powerful.
Instead of automatically responding, I give myself time to ask:
Do I actually want to do this?
Not:
Can I fit it in?
Would they be disappointed if I said no?
What will they think?
Can I make it work?
Just:
Do I want to?
That doesn't mean the answer always has to be yes to myself and no to everyone else.
Sometimes I choose to do something because it matters to someone I care about.
The difference is that I'm making a choice instead of having a reflex.
And every time I do that, I trust myself a little more.
The Commitments No One Else Sees
Maybe this is the biggest thing I'm learning.
Showing up for yourself is often incredibly unremarkable.
Nobody applauds when you keep the hour you promised yourself.
Nobody knows that you almost said yes and then realized you really wanted to say no.
Nobody sees you close the laptop.
Nobody gives you an award for changing your mind.
Nobody knows that you were scared to make a decision and made it anyway.
Nobody sees you choose rest instead of productivity.
Nobody knows that you stopped asking five other people what they thought and finally asked yourself.
But those moments matter.
Because every one of them sends yourself a message:
I listen to you.
What you want matters.
I will keep my word to you.
I won't continually abandon you to make everyone else comfortable.
You can trust me.
And I've come to believe that's how self-trust is built.
Not through one enormous act of courage.
Through hundreds of small moments when you show yourself that you're someone you can count on.
And Then Something Else Happens
The more I've learned to show up for myself, the more I've realized it doesn't make me less available to other people.
It changes how I show up for them.
I'm less likely to say yes and resent it.
I'm more willing to be honest.
I'm clearer about what I can give.
I'm more present when I choose to be somewhere.
I'm learning that boundaries don't diminish relationships worth having.
And I'm becoming much more comfortable allowing my life and my work to change as I change.
I don't have this mastered.
I still overcommit sometimes.
I still question myself.
I still catch myself looking outside of myself for confirmation.
I still occasionally realize that I've filled my calendar with things that seemed important and somehow left very little room for me.
The difference is that I notice it sooner now.
And maybe that's what showing up for yourself really is.
Not getting to some magical point where you always choose perfectly.
But becoming willing to notice when you've left yourself behind...
and coming back.
Again and again.
Because I've spent a lot of my life being someone other people could count on.
I'm proud of that.
But at this stage of my life, I'm adding something to it.
I want to be someone I can count on, too.




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