What I Did With My Self Care Summer

There were no elaborate self care routines, no face masks, no bath bombs, no carefully curated wellness retreats. If you were expecting that kind of recap, I'm about to disappoint you.

This past spring I got dragged through a knothole backwards (my dad's expression for those experiences that just have their way with you regardless of your plans). What started as what I thought was a stubborn UTI turned into two kidney stones, a trip to the ER, surgery, and a fatty liver diagnosis that had been quietly developing while I was busy being a wife, a mom, a music teacher, a soap maker, and generally everything to everyone except myself. Don’t get me wrong, my body had been complaining. I hadn't been listening. Until I had to. 

I started by asking what do I need? Turns out the answer was pretty simple.

I needed to read. I read for pleasure, for learning, and sometimes just because the couch was comfortable, the dog was warm, and there was nowhere I had to be.

I needed to play records. There is something about dropping a needle on vinyl that does something to my nervous system, like opening a brand new box of crayons. I played records this summer and it turned out to be one of the most restorative things I did.

I needed to create in my shop without pressure. I made soap and let the batter tell me what it wanted to be. I mixed, poured, swirled, and came out of the shop smelling like fragrance oil and feeling more like myself than I had in months.

I needed my family. We packed the summer with visits, vacations, and ordinary evening walks that turned into something worth remembering. I sat around tables with my people and was actually present.

I needed to move my body in ways I didn't hate. My husband and I walked our chunky dog every single evening. We did strength training together. I got on the elliptical before the house woke up. My resting heart rate dropped to the low 60s. My blood pressure came down to numbers my doctor will love. Twelve pounds left quietly.

I needed to feed myself intentionally. This summer I cooked slowly and deliberately. Whole foods with real ingredients. Lean meats, fresh vegetables, and fruit. Nothing processed. I avoided sugar like it had personally offended me because honestly, it kind of had. And I made those choices to support my liver as it healed, which led to what is possibly my favorite thing I said all summer, at a family weekend where pizza was on the table: "I'm not eating pizza. I'm loving my liver." as I ate a salad instead. 

I needed to play flute in a pit orchestra. Where I could reconnect with music just for myself. 

I needed to drink water like it was my job. Kidney stones will motivate you in ways no wellness coach can. 

I needed to be present. I stayed off personal social media entirely and I did not miss it once. 

And somewhere in all of that quiet, something spiritual settled too. A growing sense that this is what it means to be a good steward of the life I've been given. The body that carried me through a very hard spring deserved better than being ignored. Caring for it wasn't selfish. 

She is clothed with strength and dignity.  Proverbs 31:25

What I did this summer wasn't glamorous. There were really sweaty and messy moments. I have no big epiphanies, I’m simply a woman who got quiet enough to hear what her body needed and decided to do those things.

School starts this week. The knothole is behind me. And I'm walking back into the elementary building healthier, stronger, and more intentional than I have in years.

So if you see me and wonder what my secret is, there you go. And if I inspired you to take a few steps towards your own self care, whatever that might look like for you, all the better. 

Jen Cobb is the maker behind Cobb Cabin Crafts, a small batch handmade soap and skincare business rooted in intentional ingredients, slow processes, and the belief that the best things take time.