Time to be Selfish

I was really angry at the beginning of the summer about all the sh*t going on with my parents and how it derailed my life even as I had previously cut them out of my life. Thousands of dollars I didn’t have, spent. Weeks with my kids and company at a crucial time, wasted. So much more abuse and trauma and BS.

(And btw, thank you for the many many of you who have reached out to me after newsletters about this topic. I’m going to get back to all of you, I promise! It really means a lot to know I’m not alone here and your words and thoughts have meant a lot!) 

But oddly enough, I found myself telling someone last week that it had been a summer with a surprising amount of healing, as much as it’s also had a lot of struggle. 

It was a weird combination of a bunch of STUFF combined with rare time and space to process and deal with it. 

Many of you know, we live most time in Palm Springs (which was supposed to be our second home when we bought it), and I’ve been struggling with missing San Francisco. So after Radish burned his paws on the hot pavement, we decided that he and I were going to spend the entire summer in San Francisco, in the sunny 68-degree weather, seeing friends, soaking up backyard air and off-leash park vibes, and romping all over the windswept beaches, while I managed my Airbnb and turned the back, neglected rooms of my home into a tiny garden suite for me and my kids. 

Paul had zero interest in living in this tiny house experiment. He’s of the belief that people in their 40s shouldn’t sleep in loft beds and cook as though they live in a dorm room. (Pshhhh! I love my deluxe queen loft bed. It’s got luxe bedding and high walls and feels like sleeping in a nest in the top of a tree. It even gently sways when I roll around too much.) 

However, he does love the idea of hanging out in 120-degree heat and the isolation of off-season Palm Springs. 

We both wanted to see our beloved Angel City women’s soccer games in LA, so we met up there each home game for date nights. Because I was gonna be in another city, my kids’ dad and I decided to do two weeks on and two weeks off custody this summer.

So I found myself without the footprint of a full house, without a partner, without kids much of the summer, with just me and my dog in my favorite neighborhood in my favorite city. 

There was a lot of time to be selfish and just be. 

Like most women and most moms, I have a hard time not overdoing things to nurture and support other people. I think just sitting with myself, my sh*t, and my life was so valuable. I feel ready to go back to Palm Springs. But also ready to make this an annual tradition. 

I made smoothies. I twerked (or something like it?). And I healed, if only just a bit. Hope you found time to heal this summer. 

- Sarah