Do you know the Golden Rule? “Treat others as you would like to be treated.” It’s a lesson I learned as a child, and one I am now passing on to my own children.

It’s a good rule—one I believe needs a resurgence in modern culture. But I also believe it needs a specific rewrite for mothers: “Treat yourself as you treat your children.”

Like many women, I felt a piece of myself slip away when I became a mother. It may be a cliché, but it is my truth. I devoted every ounce of my identity to them. I curated art projects and “science experiments,” but my own hobbies have gathered dust. I prepare nutritious meals and snacks for them, yet I survive on cold leftovers and coffee. I have neglected myself physically, mentally, and spiritually.

Physically, the toll is undeniable. To use another cliché, I hardly recognize the woman in the mirror. While the number on the scale has climbed, it wouldn’t bother me if I actually felt healthy. Instead, the weight only compounds the physical challenges I manage daily: pelvic organ prolapse, hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (hEDS), and most recently, a herniated disc in my neck. I feel weak. As someone who always prided herself on being “stronger than I look,” this season has been deeply humbling.

Mentally, I live in a near-constant fog. I was once a voracious reader, but for five years, I didn’t pick up a physical book. While I’ve recently begun to read again, I can feel the erosion of my attention span—a casualty of doom-scrolling and clickbait.

Spiritually, I feel adrift. This is the part that hurts most. I stepped away from the Catholicism of my youth years ago, maintaining a vague belief in a higher power and sending up “prayers to the universe.” But since the birth of my children, even that New Age spirituality has faded. A personal tragedy last year left me reeling, and for the first time in a long time, I find myself longing to know God again.

This is the year that changes. As my children grow, they need me less physically, but they are watching me more closely. They are learning what it means to be a woman by observing me. They learn through my actions, not my words.

I want to find myself again. Or rather, I want to find a new way to be myself—one that integrates the woman I was with the mother I have become.

I don’t know if anyone will read this; in truth, I am writing this to my future self as a “before” photo in words. But if you are reading, you are welcome to join me as I seek:

Finding whole-body health.
Finding joy in motherhood.
Finding solace in faith.
Finding pleasure in rest.
Finding Cailin.