I told the children I was having a quiet night and then had to teach myself not to apologize for it

Dear Delyara, That may sound ridiculous, but it is the truth. After dinner I said, “I’m going upstairs with a book for a bit. If you need me and it’s not urgent, ask Dad first.” The sentence was simple. Clear. Healthy, probably. And within seconds I could feel the old guilt trying to build a case against it. Are you being cold? Are you withdrawing? Are you making yourself unavailable in a way good mothers shouldn’t? I hate how quickly the mind can turn a small act of self-preservation into a moral problem. I still went upstairs. I still had the bath. I still sat on the bed with my book and my cup of tea. But I also spent part of that hour internally defending my own right to need less. That’s the work, I think. Not only taking the room. Learning not to prosecute yourself once you’re in it.