I’m done getting up from the table as soon as I sit down.
I’m done folding my kids’ clothes. Honestly, they are old enough to handle that themselves, and if they choose to stuff everything haphazardly into their drawers, that’s on them. I just can’t be bothered anymore.
I’m done hunting for lost items. My 5-year-old can’t find her beloved unicorn stuffed animal or her favorite pink pen. And my 9-year-old can’t locate his tablet or the latest Harry Potter book. My partner is always misplacing his sunglasses, keys, phone, and wallet. But guess who knows exactly where all that stuff is? Me. And guess who isn’t going to tell a soul? That’s right—me. Mwahaha!
I’m done preparing snacks at all hours. Three meals a day for my little munchkins is all they’re getting from me. If they want cheese and crackers, they can make it themselves.
I’m done being woken in the middle of the night for trivial matters. If my child has a nightmare, they can crawl into bed with us. But if someone screams at 3 a.m. because they need their covers fixed, I might just lose it.
I’m done over-scheduling my kids. Just one activity per child is going to have to suffice. I need some peaceful evenings with no rushing around. One or two outings a week is plenty.
I’m done repeating myself. If there’s one cookie left and I ask my child if they want it, and all I get is a distracted “Huh?”, then I’m eating the cookie. Sorry, kid. It’s mine now.
I’m done stressing about the chaos in my home. I’ve taken on some extra freelance work recently. Instead of saving every penny for my kids’ college fund, I’m hiring a housekeeper. I want my home to be clean, but I don’t have the time to do it myself anymore.
I’m done prioritizing everyone else’s needs above my own. I might choose to work out instead of cooking dinner. Kids, find some leftovers or ask your dad to throw something together. He knows how to cook, trust me. Also, I’ve scheduled appointments with a dermatologist and a therapist—things I’ve put off for years because I thought they would take away from family time or that I shouldn’t spend money on “nonessential” healthcare.
I’m done feeling guilty about treating myself. For over a decade, I’ve been the type of person who would take things out of my cart before checkout. No more martyrdom. Just the other day, I splurged on some high-quality makeup that really improves my skin, and I feel great about it.
I’m done gritting my teeth as my kids invade my personal space. I deserve to have some bodily autonomy. No more jungle-gym mommy, no more elbowing or head-butting. Hugs are still allowed, though!
I’m making these changes because I finally realize that playing the martyr has not helped my family at all. Instead of giving them my best, I’ve neglected my own needs and turned into a stressed, angry version of myself. From now on, everyone—including me—will benefit from a calmer, happier, and more fulfilled version of me.
I quit.
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In summary, I’ve decided to prioritize my own needs and let go of the excess burdens of parenting that have been weighing me down. By doing so, I hope to be the best version of myself for my family.