Editor’s note: If you or someone you know is struggling with mental health, help is available. Dial or text 988 or visit 988lifeline.org for free and confidential support.
Simone Biles credited her return to the Olympics this year primarily to being “in a really good spot mentally.” She described her devotion to weekly therapy as “kinda religious.”
Her athletic performances at the Paris Olympics this month were thrilling, earning her three gold medals and one silver medal. But what I really admire is her commitment to keeping her mental health in the limelight right alongside her gymnastics accomplishments.
That’s something we can all do. While Biles maintains her Therapy Thursdays, I observe my Sushi Tuesdays.
Tuesdays became my sacred day for self-care 17 years ago, after my husband died by suicide, leaving me and our two young children shocked, confused and devastated. The demands of grief and life overwhelmed me as a young widow, just 39 years old, and newly single parent. My kids were 6 and 8 years old.
All the adulting and parenting fell to me, alone and grieving: coordinating third grade homework, cooking, chauffeuring, reading board books at bedtime, paying the mortgage, picking up dog poop. All mine. For the first several weeks, I hardly ate, I barely slept, and I often found myself holding my breath.
It quickly became apparent to me that I would have to take care of myself to tend to my little ones and everything else. I learned to prioritize the trifecta of mental health: eating, sleeping, breathing. In the throes of a mental health crisis, this trio grounded me. Healing started there.
Focusing on my own mental health
When my therapist offered me a recurring slot on Tuesdays, I booked it and planned the next few hours around taking care of myself. Tuesdays were not for socializing. I didn’t make appointments with doctors, lawyers or accountants. I didn’t do dishes or laundry. I didn’t go to the office.
I would go to yoga and therapy and sometimes take myself out to lunch (sushi, table for one). I might write or walk or nap or make a difficult decision. I might just sit and cry. As a practical matter, my “me” time lasted from school drop off to pick up, and I guarded those precious hours with an almost religious fervor. (My kids are now 23 and 25 but I’m still committed to therapy and yoga on Tuesdays.)
Along with weekly therapy, I took up running and meditation. Both practices started off frustrating to the point of tears. In desperate moments I thought, “I can’t do this.” This, meaning literally putting one foot in front of the other or physically sitting still and metaphorically meeting the demands of grief and guiding little people in their mourning. Running and meditation both led to the same place as well: inhaling, exhaling, centering myself in the moment, mustering my internal resources — creativity, energy, love — and moving forward.
Therapy taught me that strong emotions are not to be avoided but are usually calling my attention to something that needs to be healed. I honored the impetus that anger and fear provide and then released both when they no longer served me.
Real self-care isn’t always easy
Self-care done properly isn’t necessarily easy or meme-worthy. Bath salts, candles and dark chocolate are great, but for me, self-care means making intentional and realistic choices.
It could mean saying “No, thank you” to things I might want to say yes to, like the road trip that would cost more than I could really afford (gas, concert tickets, meals and a bar tab). Or to retail therapy, which lost its sheen when the credit card bill came due.
Caring for myself might have been declining an invitation with a friend I’d like to see because my kids were bereft, I had a looming work deadline, I needed to organize the information to file my tax returns or my aging in-laws needed my (and my children’s) attention. It might mean choosing a 20-minute video call over a girls’ night out because the thing I needed most was a full night’s sleep.
It takes effort to sit with hard feelings. I know a lot of athletic folks who say they won’t run a marathon or ride a century (a 100-mile bike ride) because they can’t stand being in their own heads for that long. I get it. But one thing I know for sure is that facing my own hard feelings was healthier than hiding or ignoring them. Perhaps the most important thing any of us can do for our own mental health is to be honest with ourselves about what we’re feeling and experiencing.
Biles helps people by talking about her struggles
I take heart that athletes like Biles and Olympic swimmer Michael Phelps openly discuss taking care of their own mental health because public conversations like these change the social landscape. This transparency helps individuals who are struggling. It also normalizes prioritizing our mental health, reducing the stigma, shame and isolation that surround mental illness.
I hope you will make an appointment with yourself, for yourself, even if it’s 10 minutes a day because you can’t take an entire day. It’s not selfish. Rather, it’s sacred. Your mental health is where health begins, and you deserve to take care of your mental health as much as Biles or any other Olympic athlete.
Charlotte Maya is the author of “Sushi Tuesdays: A Memoir of Love, Loss, and Family Resilience.” She has published essays on grief, loss, suicide and hope in The New York Times, Hippocampus Magazine, Brevity Blog and Writer’s Digest.