What Ordering Costco Taught Me About Healing

Last month my son Ben turned 18 and we hosted a BBQ to  celebrate his birthday. 

I ordered 90% of the food from Costco and the ice cream cake from Dairy Queen. 

Now this probably doesn't sound like a big deal but the old version of me wouldn’t have done this, I would have made everything from scratch.

I would have spent days planning the menu, shopping, cooking, cleaning, and making sure the house looked perfect before anyone arrived.

This was what most holidays and special occasions used to look like for me. 

I would push through the overwhelm.

I would ignore how exhausted I felt.

I wouldn’t ask for help.

I believed everyone else’s experience mattered more than mine.

I didn't realise it then, but this was me abandoning myself.

Then I'd wonder why I felt exhausted, resentful, and disconnected from the very moments I had worked so hard to create.

This birthday was different.

I let it be easy.

I ordered the food.

I pressed the Pay Now button and felt instant relief.

I even paid extra to have it all delivered to my door.

I accepted that nothing had to be homemade or done a certain way for the day to be special.

And instead of spending the party in my head thinking about what still needed doing, I was actually there.

Laughing.

Talking.

Crying.

Celebrating Ben.

To anyone else, it probably just looked like I ordered food but to me, it was so much more than that. 

It was me choosing myself. 

It was a practice in no longer abandoning myself.

Self-abandonment isn't just saying yes when you want to say no.

Sometimes it looks like believing you have to carry it all.

Like making life harder than it needs to be.

Like sacrificing your own wants and needs so everyone else can have the "perfect" experience.

Like believing your worth comes from how much you do.

Choosing yourself sometimes looks like buying the pre-made salads and burgers. 

Sometimes it looks like pressing Pay Now instead of trying to prove you can do it all. 

Sometimes it looks like allowing things to be simple.

And sometimes, those small decisions are the ones that quietly change your life.

They certainly have mine. 

Mel x