Well, What’s Your Why?
Learning to put yourself first isn't selfish—it's survival.
Well, What's Your Why?
"My family."
For years, that answer rolled off my tongue without hesitation.
When people asked why I worked so hard, why I picked up extra hours, or why I stayed busy from sunrise to bedtime, the answer was simple.
My children. My family. That was my why.
At least, that's what I thought.
I was working more than I probably should have. Taking overtime. Chasing goals. Writing my first book. Trying to build a life that would give my children opportunities I never had.
The book received great reviews. Readers connected with the characters. They laughed where I hoped they would laugh. They became frustrated with the characters I intended them to dislike. As a writer, that's a victory. Creating believable people on a page isn't easy.
Still, I kept pushing.
Like many parents, I convinced myself that love looked like providing.
The funny thing is, my children never really asked for most of it. They didn't need bigger things.
They needed me.
- They wanted me to play with them.
- To sit with them.
- To watch them play.
- To listen.
- To be present.
The blueprint was right in front of me the entire time.
Unconditional love doesn't require exhaustion.
Somewhere along the way, I placed more weight on my "why" than it was ever meant to carry.
Then My Heart Forced Me to Stop
Literally.
I suffered a heart attack.
Suddenly, my "why" became "now."
- Now we need to reexamine some things.
- Now we need to have a conversation.
- Now we need to acknowledge that you're one step closer to a hospital bed than you ever imagined.
I had spent so much time focusing on everyone else that I overlooked the one person responsible for carrying it all.
Me.
I know that sounds selfish. It felt selfish to me too.
But how can I serve the people I love if I'm falling apart in the process?
A vehicle can't take you anywhere if it's running on empty. It doesn't matter how noble the destination is. If the battery is dead, you're not going anywhere.
I was that vehicle. Parked. Still. Broken down. Lying in a hospital bed with nothing but my thoughts.
One day, I'll share everything that raced through my mind during those moments. Today isn't that day.
What I will tell you is that I felt numb. I also felt like a walking contradiction.
- I was the fitness person.
- The former track athlete.
- The former coach.
- The person who coordinated fitness challenges.
- The person encouraging others to take care of themselves.
Yet there I was, flat on my back.
Learning from my physician that I had suffered a SCAD—a spontaneous coronary artery dissection, a condition in which a tear forms in the wall of a coronary artery and disrupts blood flow.
I remember a medical student entering the room before the doctor. He introduced himself and performed a few neurological assessments. His bedside manner felt dismissive and detached.
Oddly enough, it gave me something else to focus on—anything other than the reality sitting in front of me. Because it was no longer hypothetical.
It was real.
I didn't require a stent. The doctors entered through my wrist and examined my heart while I lay on a cold steel table with my arm secured in place.
Another first. Another reminder that life can change without asking permission.
Today, Nearly Two Years Later
I don't sweat the small stuff nearly as much. I've become protective of my peace.
- I say no more often.
- I take myself out to eat.
- I rest when I need to.
- I spend time with my family because I want to, not because I'm trying to prove my worth through sacrifice.
I learned that self-care isn't selfish.
- It's maintenance.
- It's changing the oil before the engine seizes.
- It's charging the battery before you're stranded.
- It's understanding that if I disappear, everything I'm trying so hard to hold together changes forever.
My family is still my world. That hasn't changed. What changed is my understanding of my place within it.
I am not separate from the people I love. I am part of them. And if I neglect myself, everyone eventually pays the price.
So, When People Ask Me Today, "What's Your Why?"
My answer is different.
I am.
Not because I love my family less, but because I finally love myself enough to understand that I belong on the list too.
I am my why.
And that's how I move through life now.
