These two faces hold ten years of my life.
First, my dad. I stayed in his home until the day he passed, making sure he was surrounded by love and dignity.
Then, my sister. As her dementia progressed, she moved in with me, and I walked alongside her until nearly the very end.
I know firsthand what it means to lay down your own life to care for someone else. I know the quiet sacrifices no one sees. And I also know how vital it is—for your soul, your sanity, your survival—to carve out even the smallest spaces where you get to just be you.
I know what it means to be the one they depend on.
I’ve been the full-time caretaker for someone living out their final days with dementia. I’ve wiped mouths, managed meds, listened to the same sentence repeated 20 times in one hour.
And I’ve cried in parked cars because I couldn’t remember who I was anymore.
That’s why I say:
The second sacrifice isn’t abandoning anyone. It’s choosing, for a moment, not to abandon yourself.
We don’t talk about this enough.
How much it takes out of your body.
How your nervous system becomes raw from absorbing someone else’s decline.
How you start to believe you don’t deserve time because their needs never stop.
But hear me:
You are allowed to detach for a few hours.
You are allowed to say to your family, “Come take over. I need a break.”
You are allowed to not feel guilty for needing space.
There were days I’d just drive to a local park and sit by the lake.
Do nothing.
Stare at water.
Sketch if I could.
Breathe if I remembered how.
That was my second sacrifice:
To temporarily step away from what I had to do 24/7
and give something back to myself
before there was nothing left of me.
If you’re a woman caring for someone full-time—especially a spouse or partner—this isn’t selfish.
This is sacred maintenance.
You matter. Your spirit matters.
And reclaiming even 2 hours a week just for you
could be the exact thing that keeps you alive inside your own life.
These are things that helped me when I felt like I was vanishing. If they offer you even a moment of relief, then it was worth making.
Link to my Canva account with accessible PDF: https://www.canva.com/design/DAGxFuZ3PaI/r4e_8ON4PJ5IYdhrw4C2IA/view?utm_content=DAGxFuZ3PaI&utm_campaign=designshare&utm_medium=link2&utm_source=uniquelinks&utlId=h994839fc3e
Hi Monica. Thank you. I have become my husbands caregiver and while I work hard to support and celebrate my sense of self, I struggle with the guilt sometimes. My bigger ‘issue’ is ensuring resentment doesn’t grow. You know the “this is not what I expected” brain chatter - we’ve only been married 10 years and had other plans! 😎 Your list is very helpful. Much appreciated.
I know how you felt. I was a carer but worked in a care home and later a live in carer. It is a very hard job. But, I absolutely loved it.