EP 96: I Thought Taking Care of Everyone Else Was Just What Women Did
Growing up, I thought love meant sacrifice.
I watched my mom serve everyone before herself—literally.
We’d all sit around the dinner table, and she’d still be in the kitchen, heating up tortillas one by one so we could each have a warm one.
By the time she sat down, the food was cold… but she never complained.
There were no days off.
No naps.
No space to rest or ask, “Necesito ayuda con…?”
And what I saw was that being a good woman meant taking care of everyone else first.
So that’s who I became.
The friend who was always available.
The employee who over-delivered, over-performed, over-functioned because I couldn’t bear the idea of letting anyone down.
The partner who made excuses for others, pushed aside my needs, and poured everything into someone else, even when I felt resentful or empty.
It didn’t feel like self-sacrifice.
It felt like love.
Like responsibility.
Like what I was supposed to do.
And it “worked”… until it didn’t.
Until I realized I was constantly tired.
Disappointed.
Disconnected from myself.
And angry I wasn’t getting the same care I gave so freely to others.
It took years of inner work: therapy, breathwork, and nervous system healing to understand that this wasn’t love.
It was a survival strategy.
A pattern rooted in fear and learned behavior.
But as I began tending to myself, something started to shift.
The first time I said no without explaining myself, my heart raced, but I survived.
I started giving myself permission to rest without guilt.
To pause before saying yes.
To check in with what I needed, not just what others expected.
And then, something even harder happened.
I started to notice where my energy wasn’t being met.
I saw how certain relationships—ones I had poured so much into—were built on me overgiving and others simply… receiving.
There was no reciprocity. No honoring of my time, my heart, my needs.
And it hurt.
But it also clarified something:
I had to make some difficult decisions.
To accept that some people simply didn’t have the capacity—or the willingness—to love me the way I desired.
To stop making excuses for others.
To stop shrinking what I needed to preserve what we had.
And as painful as that was…
It was also incredibly freeing.
The anger and resentment I had been carrying started to dissolve.
I stopped waiting for people to show up in ways they never had.
And I created space for the relationships that could.
Ones that felt mutual. Respectful. Nourishing.
Ones where I didn’t have to earn love through self-sacrifice.
That’s what becomes possible when you stop abandoning yourself to stay connected to others.
You learn to stay connected to you.
And from that place, everything changes.
And now, it’s something I see in so many of the women (and men) I work with.
They have big hearts.
Their love language is often acts of service.
They’re generous, thoughtful, and reliable to a fault.
But underneath all that giving…
There’s often an inner child who learned that the only way to feel safe, seen, or loved was to earn it.
To do more. Be more. Give more.
To never ask for too much. And certainly not need too much.
And while caretaking may come naturally to them, it’s often coming from a place of depletion, not wholeness.
Because true service doesn’t come from self-sacrifice.
It comes from self-connection.
You don’t have to keep putting yourself last.
If this resonates, and you’re craving support in coming back to yourself—
Summer Reset is here for you.
Three private sessions.
Steady, nurturing space.
Just for you.
You can explore it here if and when you’re ready to feel better.
And I’d love to hear:
Did you grow up with similar beliefs about love, rest, or caretaking?
What are you currently unlearning?
xo,
Ana