Why Do We Give Ourselves the Crumbs?

The truth about priorities, self-care, and why stepping away might be the most important thing you do all year.

When did we start believing that taking care of ourselves was selfish?

Somewhere along the way, many of us—especially women—learned that everyone else’s needs come first.

The kids.The partner.The aging parents.The job.The laundry.The grocery shopping.The appointments.The endless list.

And somewhere at the bottom, often so far down we can barely see it, is us.

The leftovers.

The crumbs.

We tell ourselves we don’t have time.

We tell ourselves we can’t afford it.

We tell ourselves it’s not the priority right now.

The truth?

Most of us use “priorities” as a shield.

Not because we are lazy.

Not because we don’t care.

But because, if we are honest, slowing down long enough to ask ourselves what we actually need can be uncomfortable.

Very uncomfortable.

Self-care has become a buzzword.

Mindfulness has become a buzzword.

Authenticity has become a buzzword.

But what do these things actually mean?

For many people, self-care looks like getting a massage, having your hair done, getting your nails done, or squeezing in an hour at the gym.

And listen, those things are wonderful.

But they are often what I call time snacks.

Small bites.

Tiny moments that help us keep going.

Necessary? Absolutely.

Transformative? Not usually.

The harder question is this:

What happens when you have enough uninterrupted time to actually hear yourself think?

When was the last time you had space to ask:

Who am I underneath all these responsibilities?

What do I actually want?

What am I carrying that no longer belongs to me?

What am I avoiding?

What needs healing?

Most people never get enough quiet to even begin answering those questions.

I know because I was one of them.

For years I was moving so fast, carrying so much, surviving so much, that I never stopped long enough to realize how disconnected I had become from myself.

When your days are filled with obligations, there is no room for reflection.

When your nervous system is constantly activated, there is no room for curiosity.

When your attention is pulled in a hundred directions, there is no room for clarity.

You simply keep moving.

Until one day you realize you have become a stranger to yourself.

This is one reason nature is so powerful.

Not because it magically fixes anything.

Not because a walk in the woods solves all your problems.

But because nature creates the conditions for clarity.

Researchers have long studied what is known as Attention Restoration Theory (ART). In simple terms, our brains become fatigued when they are constantly focused on demands, decisions, notifications, schedules, and stressors.

Nature asks something different of us.

Instead of demanding our attention, it gently captures it.

The sound of moving water.

The sway of trees.

The call of a bird.

A mountain view.

A campfire.

These experiences allow our minds to rest and recover.

They create space.

And in that space, something remarkable happens.

We start hearing ourselves again.

Then there is awe.

Awe is the feeling we get when we encounter something larger than ourselves.

A sweeping vista.

A star-filled sky.

A waterfall.

The silence of a forest.

Research suggests awe can reduce stress, increase feelings of connection, and help us gain perspective on our lives.

In other words, awe reminds us that there is more to life than our to-do list.

More than our worries.

More than our obligations.

More than the stories we tell ourselves about why we can’t.

Over the last several years, I have listened to hundreds of women.

On trails.

Around campfires.

Over cups of coffee.

In coaching conversations.

In retreat circles.

And one theme keeps surfacing.

“I need this.”

Followed closely by:

“But I can’t.”

I can’t get away.

I can’t take that much time.

I can’t leave the family.

I can’t sleep outside.

I can’t carry a backpack.

I can’t hike that far.

I can’t.

I can’t.

I can’t.

And if you’ve read my writing before, you already know I tend to get curious about “I can’t.”

Because many times, “I can’t” is really:

“I’m scared.”

“I’m unsure.”

“I’ve never done this before.”

“I don’t know if I’m worth it.”

So I listened.

Really listened.

And the biggest barrier I kept hearing was time.

Not lack of desire.

Not lack of interest.

Time.

Many women wanted the experience but felt they couldn’t commit to a multi-day retreat.

Maybe they weren’t ready.

Maybe they weren’t sure.

Maybe they needed a smaller first step.

So here is my response.

A pivot born directly from your feedback.

A brand-new experience for the 2026 season.

Wild Resilience: First Steps

A one-night backpacking retreat designed specifically for women who want to experience the magic of Wild Resilience without committing to a full weekend or longer experience.

Low mileage.

Easy terrain.

A small group limited to just six women.

A chance to learn.

A chance to disconnect.

A chance to breathe.

A chance to hear yourself again.

A chance to discover whether there might be more waiting for you beyond the endless cycle of doing for everyone else.

The truth is, I don’t believe most women need another manicure.

I don’t believe most women need another productivity hack.

I don’t believe most women need another thing to add to their calendar.

I think many women need space.

Space to remember who they are.

Space to listen to their own voice.

Space to reconnect with themselves.

Space to stop surviving and start living.

And if a one-night retreat is the doorway that helps you begin that journey?

Then I cannot wait to walk beside you.

Because you deserve more than the crumbs.

You deserve a seat at your own table.

Ready to Take the First Step?

If you’ve been curious about Wild Resilience but weren’t sure you were ready for a full retreat, this experience was designed with you in mind.

Six spots.

One night.

A gentle introduction.

A powerful beginning.

Maybe this is exactly what the doctor ordered.

Maybe it’s time to stop giving yourself the leftovers.

Maybe it’s time to choose you.