Everybody Has You. But Who Has You?
You’ve accounted for the kids and the pets.
You’ve accounted for your partner’s work schedule.
You’ve accounted for the appointments, the groceries, the activities, the deadlines, the house, and everything that needs to get done this week.
But have you accounted for you?
This is a question I find myself asking often.
Because many of the women I work with are incredibly aware of what is happening around them. They know what everyone needs. They know who needs to be where and when. They know when their partner has a particularly demanding week at work. They know when the kids need a little more attention. They know when someone they love is struggling and needs some extra support.
They are attuned to everybody.
But that same level of consideration doesn't always extend inward.
“I Know, But…”
Sometimes, we actually do recognize that we're struggling.
We know we're exhausted.
We know we're overwhelmed.
We know we've been through a lot.
We know we could use some help.
And then comes the but.
I know I'm exhausted, but it has to get done.
I know I need help, but it's easier if I just do it myself.
I know I've been through a lot, but other people have it worse.
For mothers, I often hear:
Well, they're my kids.
This is the life I chose.
It's my responsibility.
My partner works, so this is how I contribute.
And here's the thing: some of those statements may be true.
Maybe you did choose this life. Maybe something is technically your responsibility. Maybe you and your partner have intentionally divided responsibilities in a particular way.
But responsibility doesn't have to mean self-abandonment.
You can be responsible for something and still need support.
You can choose motherhood and still find motherhood incredibly demanding.
You can be grateful for your life and still acknowledge that this particular season is hard.
You can be capable of doing something and still decide that doing it alone isn't fair to you.
Seeing Yourself Means Letting What You See Matter
I recently found myself highlighting this with someone navigating the postpartum period.
The people around her were making accommodations for this season. Friends were flexible with her time. People were willing to work around the baby's needs. When someone could help carry something to the car or assist with the baby, they offered.
In many ways, the people around her were saying:
We see where you are.
We know you're adjusting.
We know your body is recovering.
Let us support you.
Yet when help was offered, her automatic response was often:
No, I've got it.
And that raised an important question:
Are you honoring the season you're in as much as everyone else is?
You've brought a child into the world. Your body is recovering. You're adjusting physically and emotionally. Your routines have changed. Your sleep has changed. Your relationships may be changing.
You may intellectually know all of that.
But if you continue expecting yourself to function as though none of it happened, are you actually letting what you know about yourself matter?
That's the difference between simply knowing what's happening and truly seeing yourself.
Self-awareness might say:
I'm exhausted.
Self-attunement asks:
What is this exhaustion telling me about what I need?
And honoring yourself says:
I'm going to let that information influence what I ask of myself today.
Because seeing yourself isn't only acknowledging what you're going through.
It's allowing what you see to matter in how you treat yourself.
Who Is Your You?
Sometimes I'll listen as someone tells me everything they're responsible for.
The children. The house. Their partner. Their parents. Their work. Their friends. The appointments, schedules, logistics, and emotional labor.
They're the person who remembers.
The person who anticipates what might be needed.
The person who makes sure everyone gets where they need to go.
The person who notices when someone is having a hard time and adjusts accordingly.
The person everyone can count on.
And sometimes I'll ask:
Who is your you?
Everybody else has you.
Your kids have you thinking about what they need. Your partner has you considering their schedule, their stress, their preferences, and their capacity. Your work has you making sure things don't fall through the cracks. Your family and friends may know that if they really need something, you're probably going to figure out a way to show up.
But who is doing that for you?
Who notices when your plate is getting full?
Who thinks about your capacity before adding one more thing?
Who says, “You've had a long day. Let me take this.”
Who remembers that you're going through something even after everyone else has moved on?
Who helps make sure you don't fall through the cracks?
Maybe you have people who do some of those things. I hope you do.
And this isn't an argument that you shouldn't need them.
We are relational beings. We need support, care, affirmation, and people who can see us.
But I also want you to notice something:
Are you giving yourself the same consideration you automatically give everyone else?
Wanting to Be Seen Is Human
We want our partners to recognize what we're carrying.
We want our friends to check in.
We want our work to be acknowledged.
Sometimes we need someone to look at everything we've been navigating and simply say:
That's a lot.
You've been through a lot.
You handled that well.
You're doing a great job.
Let me help you.
There is nothing wrong with wanting that.
Being seen, affirmed, appreciated, and cared for within our relationships matters.
The goal isn't to become so “self-sufficient” that you no longer need validation or support from anyone else.
The question is whether you are also one of the people witnessing your own life.
Can you acknowledge when something was hard without immediately minimizing it?
Can you recognize when you handled something well without moving the goalpost?
Can you acknowledge that you're tired without immediately telling yourself why you shouldn't be?
Can you say:
Actually, I'm proud of how I handled that.
I've been through a lot.
That took a lot out of me.
I did a good job today.
Sometimes seeing yourself is simply telling the truth about your own experience.
And sometimes it requires letting that truth change what you do next.
What Would Change If You Accounted for Yourself?
Accounting for yourself doesn't always mean adding more “self-care.”
Sometimes the thing that sounds good for you is actually another demand on you.
Maybe there's a Mommy & Me swim class you'd love to do with your kids.
It sounds great. They'd have fun. You'd get out of the house. You'd make memories together.
But the class falls on a day when your partner works late. You've already been with the kids all day. You'd need to pack everything, get everyone dressed, drive there, manage the class, get wet children dried and changed, drive home, figure out dinner, and handle bedtime by yourself.
The question isn't only:
Would this be good for the kids?
It's also:
Have I accounted for myself in this decision?
Maybe you go.
And maybe you decide, You know what? Not today.
Neither choice is automatically the “right” one.
The question is whether the choice is aligned with your values and supportive of your capacity and well-being in the season you're actually in.
Sometimes choosing yourself looks like hiring someone to clean the house even though technically you could clean it.
Sometimes it means letting someone carry something for you.
Sometimes it means asking your partner to take over.
Sometimes it means declining something you would normally squeeze into your schedule.
Sometimes it means receiving the support that's already being offered instead of automatically saying, “I've got it.”
Sometimes it means acknowledging:
I've been through a lot lately. I'm going to adjust my expectations accordingly.
And sometimes it simply means catching yourself when you start minimizing your own experience and saying:
That's not what we're going to do here.
We're going to give ourselves grace.
Not because we're incapable.
Not because we're fragile.
But because our humanity gets to count too.
Put Yourself in the Equation
So this week, when you're making a decision, planning the schedule, responding to a request, or figuring out how you're going to get everything done, try asking yourself:
Have I accounted for myself here?
What have I been carrying?
What season am I in?
What is my actual capacity?
What do I need?
Is what I'm asking of myself fair to me?
Am I allowing myself to receive support?
Does this choice align with what I value and support my well-being?
You don't have to stop caring for everyone else.
You don't have to stop being dependable.
You don't have to stop wanting to show up well for the people you love.
I'm simply asking you to make sure you're on the list of people you consider.
Everybody else may have you.
But you need you, too.
You deserve to be seen by the people around you.
And you deserve to be one of the people who sees you.
