Today I Did Not Ask for a Takeaway Cup

A reflection by a lived experience counsellor

Today began with a meltdown.

One child refused to go to school. My husband refused to help in a situation that desperately needed two adults. Voices were raised. Feelings were hurt. The morning cracked open in that familiar way where everyone needs something from me and I am already running on empty.

But today I did something different.

I got in the car and drove to my psychologist. I began — or maybe continued, but with new honesty — the long process of taking care of the person I have neglected, overlooked, postponed, and pushed to the bottom of every list. Me.

After the appointment, I went to a café. I ordered a coffee. The woman behind the counter asked the question they always ask: "Is that to go?" And without planning it, without rehearsing courage, I heard myself say: "Actually, no. I'll have it here. In a real cup."

I knew exactly what that choice meant.

It meant I would have to sit down. It meant I would have to stay. It meant I could not rush back to being useful to everyone else. No multitasking. No walking and worrying. No drinking while driving toward the next emergency. Just me. In a chair. With a cup.

The Fine Line Between Being Needed and Being Used

At 50 years old, I am only just learning the difference between being needed and being used. There is a very fine line between use and abuse, and when you've lived a life of proving your worth by how much you can carry, you stop noticing when the load becomes cruelty.

Today, I noticed.

Sitting there with porcelain warm in my hands, I felt something unfamiliar: territory. A small piece of ground that belonged to me. Minutes that were not already allocated. Care that did not have to be earned through exhaustion.

Even after the chaos of the morning. Even after the shouting match. Even with the ache of everything that is still unresolved. I felt hopeful.

What Healing Actually Looks Like

Because healing, I am discovering, does not always arrive as a grand declaration or a dramatic boundary. Sometimes it arrives disguised as a decision not to ask for a takeaway cup. Sometimes it sounds like, "I will stay."

I am learning that if I want my children to know they are worthy of care, I must show them a mother who believes she is worthy too.

So today I practised. I sat. I sipped. I breathed. And for the length of that coffee, I visited the woman I have long abandoned.

She was still there. And she is ready to come home.

You Deserve Care Too

Counselling is available for you to start taking care of you. If you are ready to spring clean your life, Friendship Centre Counselling & Supervision with Maria Sarina is here to walk that journey with you.