Rediscovering Self Care

On a recent girls trip to Jamaica, each of us was assigned a roommate. I was lucky to be paired with one of my oldest and dearest friends. The kind of friendship where silence feels easy and laughter comes without effort.

As soon as we arrived at the resort, we were on a mission. We needed coffee. We needed food. After wandering past restaurants and buffets, we landed at the Jerk Hut. Jerk chicken. Rice and peas. No planning. No overthinking. Just responding to what we needed in that moment.

We ate quickly. We laughed. Then we looked at each other and said the same thing at the same time. Wow, I was hungry.

That was the first realization.

Under different circumstances, this moment might have unfolded differently. There are times when we instinctively make sure everyone else is settled first. Comfortable first. Taken care of first. Caregiving takes many forms, and it often becomes second nature.

But this time, without discussion or guilt, we fed ourselves first.

As we sat there in our after food glow, staring at our empty plates, something softened. I felt it before I could name it. Then it clicked.

I looked at my roomie and said, “This is self care.”

Saying it out loud shifted the moment. Not because it became bigger, but because it became intentional. And in that instant, we both felt a quiet sense of peace. Not excitement. Not indulgence. Just calm.

That was the real aha.

What stayed with me was how easily that moment could have passed unnoticed. Nothing about it was dramatic or special on the surface. What gave it weight was the intention we brought to it.

The Lesson from the Lunch Line

Care shows up in our lives constantly, often without ceremony. In conversations. In presence. In responsibility. In the ways we show up day after day. Over time, it becomes automatic.

And because it is automatic, we do not always notice when we are the ones in need of it. The signs are subtle. Fatigue. Short patience. A quiet sense of being stretched thin.

That lunch was not just lunch. It was a mirror.

It reflected how often care appears in simple, ordinary moments. Moments we move through quickly. Moments we rarely name. When we pause long enough to notice them and claim them with intention, they settle differently. They stay.

Self care does not need to look a certain way to be valid. It does not need to be planned, polished, or shared. It often arrives quietly, asking only to be acknowledged.

And when we name it, it carries weight.

Care in Everyday Moments

Self care often lives in the in between. A pause before the next thing. A breath you actually feel. A meal you allow yourself to enjoy. A moment of connection that brings you back to yourself.

When we recognize these moments as care, something shifts. They stop feeling accidental. They start feeling supportive. Like we are finally including ourselves in the care we so easily extend outward.

Another realization surfaced that day. When care is intentional, it does not take away from anyone else. It allows us to be more present. More patient. More ourselves.

As this girls trip reflection lingers, it opens a gentle conversation about intentional self care in the moments we usually overlook.

Reflection
What happens when you bring intention to a moment you would normally rush past?