Longevity logo

Recipe for Prioritizing Self-Care

It can be a little salty.

By Camille Ora-NicolePublished 3 years ago 6 min read
Like
Credit: WinWin/Adobe Stock

Ingredients:

  • 1 Tarot Reading
  • 1 job that makes you cry
  • 1 layoff
  • 1 one uncle that works too hard and looks 10 years older than he is
  • 1 day of awful nausea
  • 6 years of internal conflict and denying yourself what you love

Back in June, I got a tarot card reading done by a friend of mine. During this session, the reader (Nicky Endres @mxnickyendres on IG) told me that I needed to pay attention to my self care routines. She said that it wouldn’t be something I’d need to do actively; things would happen that would force the issue.

I had no way of knowing exactly what that would mean at the time. I had just started a new contract position that replaced a job where my boss made me so angry I cried. The new position seemed promising and paid nearly $15 more hourly than I ever had. I had also wrapped up the first June Pride Convention Event held by the nonprofit I run. Plus, a grant had just rolled in that would ensure that we were funded for the rest of the year. Sure, I was doing a lot, and I was tired, but that wasn’t any different than my state of being since 2015.

Things seemed to be falling in place, and if self-care was the only thing missing, I was happy to take my time with dealing with it, especially if dealing with it would be primarily a passive activity.

What Nicky predicted would happen started to happen two months later. Instead of the reminders of self-care being gentle nudges, they were slaps ranging from gentle to tooth-loosening, slobbering, slow-motion acts of aggression.

The First Slap (gentle nudge)

The first thing that happened was seeing my uncle as I picked up some couches. My mom had left them in the family house for me, where my Uncle is now residing. As we chatted, he mentioned how he had waited to get back into the house for 30 years, and had worked his ass off for decades for the retirement that he was going to be receiving from several sources in a year or two. He spoke proudly, but he looked shrunken, both in and down. I always knew my uncle to be stocky, strong, and joyful. The specter helping us move couches mere minutes before his shift was not that. He reminded me of one of my great-aunts, who retired from teaching, but then kept teaching. She was also proud of her retirement, and spent her funds hoarding and buying church suits. Her mental acuity continued to dwindle, until she was diagnosed with Alzheimers and Dementia.

On the way home I told my wife that maybe this was a gentle reminder to take care of myself and not work so hard, especially if workaholism is something that runs in my family, and runs brilliant, beautiful people into the ground.

The Second Slap (all-out smackdown)

The next event that happened was my contract at my new promising position being clipped early. Since starting, I had found myself being content making social media assets for lots of money. It wasn’t a dream, but it was easy enough and I had made plans to save a fuckton of money and be able to make some real moves in life. I worked hard, did good work, and made plans to stay awhile and transition eventually into the full-time position they needed. I hit difficult deadlines, helped update how they used their graphics, and tried to add input that would keep the brand lively. Suffice it to say, losing that job regardless was a hard blow to my plans and my pride.

I spent nearly two weeks spiraling over a job that promised money (but not passion), decent co-workers (but not friends), and heightened status (but not notoriety). I mourned something that I had taken partially out of desperation, something that I decided would be my plan even though it was so far out of my typical industries.

The Third Slap (wake-up call)

Then one day I woke up with nausea that made it near impossible for me to move. I slept and cried and sweated all day, and didn’t eat again until the next evening for fear that the nausea would come back. The pathetic-ness of that episode was the final slap, a “get your head straight” slap. It was also when I realized that the self-care requirement had manifested itself in three ways: a vision of my future, a loss, and a physical illness. The universe really did create a situation where I either take care of myself or drown, no in-between.

Sometimes that’s just how self-care reminders manifest.

Reminders to take care of yourself don’t always come in calendar reminders to go to the spa, or Instagram story posts telling you to prioritize yourself.

Sometimes it comes in the form of loss. Sometimes it comes from a place of love, seeing others work too hard, and for what? An old house that’s falling apart at the same rate as the decaying body residing in it? Sometimes ignoring your heart can literally make you sick, and force you to re-assess what the hell it is you’re doing with your life.

For a lot of us, that reminder came hard and strong during COVID, where millions were either overworked or lost everything they had worked for; where people fell ill, or saw people they love die and add to numbers of loss too big for us to really comprehend.

Self-care is not always easy. Growth is never easy. But if we’re going to become the best images of ourselves, we have to do the work, no matter how it hurts. The person that you become because of that work is the result of taking care, taking time to know what you need and want, and advocating for it.

I’m learning how to be comfortable where I am. I’m learning how to relax, how to embrace what I love. I’m confronting my fear of failure, my imposter syndrome, and the roots of my workaholism. As a Scorpio moon, I’m a little icy; I’m trying to melt a little. Confronting it all makes my skin crawl, but I feel a little better about my situation every day. I’m excited to get back into photography, to study exactly what I want to study without worrying about being an outsider (shout out to my heritage conservation homies), and about having time to help creative youths so that maybe they don’t have to experience my path.

It sucks, but it’s worth it. It’s worth it for all us crazy people, and we’re all a little crazy. :)

Find me on Instagram @oracami to book a photoshoot. Los Angeles locals

self care
Like

About the Creator

Camille Ora-Nicole

Hi! I'm a writer, artist, placemaker, and producer from Southern California. When I'm not writing, I'm drawing, and if i'm not drawing I'm working on a project, and if not doing any of that, i'm Netflix and chillin'. IG: @oracami_studio

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.