Have you ever felt like you have no priority in your own life?
I have.
In fact, it just happened again this week.
Not because the things I put ahead of myself weren't important. They were. But somewhere between helping people I love, keeping commitments, volunteering, and doing the things I felt obligated to do, I forgot to make room for something else that is important.
Me.
When do we start putting everyone else ahead of ourselves?
When do we stop saying no because we convince ourselves that what someone else needs is more important than what we need?
And when did taking care of ourselves start feeling selfish?
This week, my mom had appointments. A friend's car broke down and I felt obligated to help because I had already backed out of two things we were supposed to do together. Then she went to a doctor's appointment and found out she needed surgery the very next day.
I had a commitment taking someone to work—which is actually paid work for me. I volunteered at the soup kitchen one day. I went to two AA meetings.
Every one of those things had a reason behind it.
Then Friday came.
I looked around and realized I hadn't done anything for my business all week.
I was exhausted. By the time I got home each day, all I wanted to do was sleep.
And instead of giving myself grace, I started beating myself up.
You're not taking your business seriously.
You're not putting your time into it.
How are you ever going to make this work?
And then came the thought that really got me:
If I don't feel like my business is real, how am I going to convince anyone else that it is?
It is funny because I keep saying, "I already have a business," and sometimes people look at me and laugh.
But I DO have a business.
Check out my blogs.
Look at the programs I have been developing.
I have a book I'm working to finish.
I have coaching programs I want to bring to life.
I have people I want to help.
I want people to understand why they should hire me as their coach.
But here's what I realized this week:
I have to start treating my business like a business.
That doesn't mean I stop helping people.
It doesn't mean my mom's appointments aren't important. It doesn't mean I don't show up when a friend suddenly needs surgery. It doesn't mean I stop volunteering or caring about the people in my life.
It means their importance doesn't require my unimportance.
Whew.
Maybe somebody else needed that sentence as much as I did.
I can love people and still have boundaries.
I can help someone and still protect my time.
I can say, "I can't today. I have to work," even if that work happens from my own home.
And maybe the bigger lesson isn't that I failed this week.
Maybe the lesson is that I finally noticed a pattern that needs to change.
I have spent a lot of my life showing up for other people.
Now I have to learn how to show up for myself too.
Because this business isn't something I'm pretending to do.
It isn't something I'll get serious about "one day."
I am a coach. I am a business owner. And the work I'm building matters.
If I want other people to take my business seriously, I have to be willing to protect the time it takes to build it.
So I'm making a pivot.
I'm not going to stop caring about people.
I'm not going to stop helping.
But I'm also not going to automatically put myself at the bottom of the list.
Because I belong on my own priority list too.
And maybe you do too.
So here's my question for you:
When did you stop making your own life a priority?
Have you become so busy showing up for everyone else that you've stopped showing up for yourself?
Maybe your pivot doesn't require changing your whole life.
Maybe it starts with one small sentence:
"I matter too."
And then living like you believe it.
Rising isn't optional—it's who we are.