As a Black mom, it took me a few years but I realized something profound: taking care of myself is not just an act of self-love; it’s part of taking care of my kid. It wasn’t until I became a single mom, that I knew something needed to change.

In a society that often glorifies self-sacrifice and martyrdom in motherhood, it was time to challenge the narrative and recognize that prioritizing my physical and mental well-being is not selfish—it’s necessary for the well-being of my son and me.

For far too long, women—especially Black women—have been conditioned to put the needs of others before their own. We’ve been taught that our worth as mothers is directly tied to how much we give and how little we receive in return. We are supposed to burn out.

But who told us that taking a break made us bad mothers? Why did I have to feel guilty for wanting to spend time away from my child? Who convinced us that self-care is a luxury reserved for those with the time, resources, and privilege to indulge in it?

I decided to break free from these harmful beliefs and embrace a new mindset shift where self-care is not just an option but a part of motherhood. And as single mothers, the importance of self-care is amplified even further. We carry the weight of providing for our children financially, emotionally, and spiritually.  But to show up fully for our kids, we must first show up for ourselves.

If something happens to me, what will happen to my son? I realized that I needed to make myself a priority and that it was selfish of me not to. I deserved to take care of myself.

For me, taking care of myself meant acknowledging my own needs and boundaries. It meant carving out time in my busy schedule for exercise, meditation, or simply doing things that bring me joy. Sometimes it looks like letting the laundry pile up or taking a nap. It means making a therapy appointment when I need support navigating the challenges of motherhood and grief. It means saying no to things that drain me and yes to things that pour into me, even if it means disappointing others or disrupting societal expectations. This can look different for everyone.

But self-care isn’t just about bubble baths and spa days (though those are nice too). It’s about cultivating a deep sense of self-awareness and self-compassion. It’s making a doctor’s appointment when something doesn’t feel right. It’s about recognizing when I’m running on empty and having the courage to ask for help. It’s about setting boundaries with toxic people and situations, even if it means burning a bridge.

By prioritizing my own well-being, I’m modeling healthy behaviors for my young son. And I’m also happier. I’m teaching him that it’s okay to prioritize himself and his needs, even in a world that tells him otherwise. I’m showing him that self-love isn’t selfish—it’s necessary in order to live a full and balanced life.

Most importantly, I’m breaking generational curses. I’m challenging the notion that suffering is synonymous with motherhood and that my worth as a mother is contingent upon how much I sacrifice. I’m refusing to pass down the same toxic patterns and beliefs. Instead, I’m choosing to rewrite the narrative.

So to my fellow single Black moms, I urge you: don’t wait until something forces you to take a break. Don’t buy into the lie that putting yourself last is noble or virtuous. There ain’t no award for that.

Now ask yourself, what will you do to prioritize self-care in your life?