Melissa realised she had ridiculously high standards for herself. Photo / Supplied
Melissa realised she had ridiculously high standards for herself. Photo / Supplied
Opinion:
I flop into bed after getting through another day. The feeling when my head hits the pillow is relief.
Another day done of being a middle-aged Millennial. Working full time, parenting two under four, trying to eat vegetables, paying my rising rent, drinking enough water, making time for romantic and platonic relationships, buying meaningful birthday presents and remembering to pay my bills.
That relief is a feeling of reprieve from serving others. If only for a few hours before I’m jolted out of slumber at the sound of my three-year-old shrieking “coooooold”, rather than pulling up her doona herself.
How do we get to this point as parents, where we put ourselves last and concede it’s just a necessity of parenthood? Part of it is the nature of the parenting beast, but part of it stems from an expectation that women become martyrs when they become mothers.
Earlier that same day, I’d seen presenter Chrissie Swan speak at a Priceline Pharmacy positive ageing breakfast panel event.
Chrissie Swan. Photo / Instagram
Asked about her experience of ageing off the back of new nationwide research by YouGov on behalf of Priceline, which found that more than two in five Australian women aged 40-plus feel invisible, Chrissie offered a moment of vulnerability.
“Everyone was having a great time at the party apart from me,” she told the room.
“I was exhausted, I didn’t know what I’d like to do anymore. It felt like as soon as I had kids, I left the rocket ship and I was floating, trying to make it work.
“I realised I’d forgotten what I like to do because I got so used to being a service to the people I love. We are the mothers, the friends and the wives … we’re supposed to get our life blood from being of service to people, and that wasn’t true for me at all.”
Ooft. So how did Chrissie change it all? How did she overhaul her life from autopilot to one lived with intention?
“I started to eat the mashed potato,” said Chrissie, and it’s this unexpected anecdote that’s turned my life upside down.
Life-changing mashed potato. Photo / Getty
Let’s take a step back. You know when you’re making dinner for the family and when you’re plating up you realise you haven’t made enough mashed potato? A serve goes to your partner, to the kids and you naturally give yourself less.
You put yourself last, without even consciously choosing to.
Chrissie noted that, like for many middle-aged Millennials and older, the current caregiving season sees you repeat tiny moments that continue to undermine your own value and needs.
It might be giving yourself less mashed potato.
Or in my case it was having no work boundaries. “Should-ing” myself into attending two-year-old birthday parties I didn’t want to. Having ridiculously high standards for myself when it comes to parenting.
Melissa Shedden realised she was giving all of herself to being a parent. Photo / Supplied
So. I started to put myself first. I started living by Chrissie Swan’s mashed potato rule. Protecting my peace. Giving myself the time to focus on what truly makes me happy, and not getting lost in the chaos of modern life.
Despite the protests, my early rising kids won’t be greeted by me until 6.30am. I leave work at 4.30pm so I’m home for dinner time with them, then log back on later.
I removed myself from friendships that felt draining and exhausting.
I blocked out time in my diary to actually exercise, it’s twice a week but feels actually doable.
I went on a girls weekend with mates for two days, sleeping in what felt like 3000 thread count cotton sheets and waking up when my body clock felt like it, not when my toddler did.
And these tiny acts of self-love and preservation have enhanced my life immeasurably.
Eating the mashed potato is about adopting a way of thinking that becomes second nature.
Where I was once harried and frenzied, feeling like I’m spreading myself thin and spectacularly failing on all fronts, I’ve been left with that warm, fuzzy sense of peace.
I no longer feel stuck, but free to live with intention – and I have Chrissie Swan and a potato masher to thank for that.
