Self-care for me is always shapeshifting. Some days it comes as a hot cup of tea, sans milk, a roasted Darjeeling tea blend.
Other days it is getting in my activewear to hit the gym, lift some weights and do some crunches or lying in my bed and reading a thriller or whodunit in my bed.
But when I think hard, I feel it is a combination of all the things- things that are inherently me.
They try to evade me during the luteal phase, so I have to be extra patient and get to them as gently as possible.
My self-care routine is sometimes consistent, sometimes whimsical, much like their creator.
Fingers in symphony 