This spring, I’m making space for joy

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I had just finished telling my therapist about Mardi Gras Sunday in New Orleans and when I finished, she laughed. Then she looked at me and said, “Who is this person?”

I laughed, too. Because I knew exactly what she meant.

I had gone “outside.”

That might sound small to someone else. But if you know me, the woman who has been building, managing, protecting and surviving for years, you understand why going “outside” was a big deal. Outside meant I had put something down long enough to actually show up somewhere else. Outside meant I wasn’t just moving through life in survival mode. Outside meant I was present.

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Here’s what I need you to understand:  

My friends have always offered. Always. They are the kind of women who make room without making it complicated. They invite, they include, they check in. And for a long time, I said no. Not because I didn’t love them or didn’t want to be there—but because saying yes felt like something I hadn’t earned yet. Like I had too much to do, too much to carry, too much to be before I could just…go outside and enjoy myself.

Survival mode has a way of making you believe that rest is a reward. That joy is something you get to after everything else is handled. That showing up for yourself is a luxury.

But on Mardi Gras Sunday in New Orleans, I said yes.

I packed up with my son and we went.  

I even sent a photo to my girl as proof that we were on the way! When we got there, my friends did what they always do. They made sure I was comfortable. They made space for me to show up exactly how I needed to. No pressure to stay long, no guilt when I was ready to go. They read the room without me having to say a word, which is a rare kind of love, and I don’t take it lightly.

I had fun. Real fun. The kind of fun where you’re not checking your phone or running through a to-do list in the back of your mind. I was just present. In the crowd. In the noise. At the same time, I realized my son was watching his mother have a good time. Not performing. Not managing. Not holding everything together with a smile painted over the exhaustion. That moment became the most important thing I did for him all season. Maybe all year.

Because here’s what I know as a pharmacist, wellness advocate and a woman who has studied what chronic stress does to a body: our children absorb our nervous systems. They learn what rest looks like (or doesn’t look like) by watching us. When we stay in survival mode indefinitely, we teach them that survival mode is just…life.

That’s what survival mode does over time.  

It slowly distances you from the version of yourself who laughs easily, who shows up, who lets joy in without calculating whether or not she’s earned it first. And then, one day, your therapist sees you and says, “Who is this person?” And it’s not an insult. It’s a celebration.

Enjoyment is not a reward for surviving. It is part of the prescription.

This spring, I’m making space. For joy. For presence. For the version of me that my therapist laughed with joy to meet. I’m showing up outside, open and finally ready to receive what’s been waiting for me.

You don’t have to earn your next season. You just have to show up for it.

Dr. Alisha Reed is a licensed pharmacist and a boy mom who is unapologetic about self-care. She is the creator of the REFILL Strategy, hosts the Your Self Care Prescription podcast, and is passionate about teaching women how to advocate for themselves.