Amy Chan | It starts with the self

Chances Are | The importance of taking care of ourselves

By Amy Chan 11/01/16 11:31pm

Last week, I caught the most unrelenting illness known to man: the common cold. That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, sanitize your beds and cover your mouths, because the respiratory syncytial virus is back in town and he’s not sparing anyone.

As I lay in bed cancelling meetings and asking for extensions in classes, I felt a heavy sense of guilt and fear. Though I could hardly breathe for coughing so hard, all I worried about was whether I would fall behind in schoolwork.

Moreover, I felt irresponsible. Was I really sick enough to warrant skipping class? I have a tendency to downplay my problems, as I think many Penn students do, because I don’t value myself enough to consider them legitimate. I can still move (slowly so my head doesn’t throb) and I can breathe (raggedly through my booger-filled nostrils), so I must be well enough to do work.

On top of cancelling my classes, I had to cancel on friends. To text after text of people asking me, “Hey, are we still meeting for coffee?” I had to respond, “No, I’m sorry, I’m not feeling well.” One of my close friends called, and though I heard the phone ring, I didn’t pick it up. I felt overwhelmingly ashamed, because he always picks up when I call, at whatever hour of the day. Here I was, actively ignoring him. I know we’ll talk for hours if I pick up, I said to myself. I have to go to bed soon. I have to think about myself first, just this one time, right?

Growing up, we are constantly taught the importance of hard work and social duty. Always do your best. Always push yourself as hard as you can. Keep the promises you make. These lessons are necessary for a society to function. But what about the duty we have to ourselves?

This may seem like a really easy question, but it is one I find myself asking all the time here at Penn. Once, I was sitting in French class, exhausted from having had only four hours of sleep. I am the type of person who needs a good eight hours to function, and I will not compromise it for any frivolity.

My friend next to me asked me if I was okay, and I responded, “Yeah, just exhausted.” He went, “How long did you sleep?” And I said, “Oh, about four hours.” He replied, “Ha, that’s nothing. I sleep that much every night.”

What was I supposed to say to that? I didn’t realize that abusing our bodies was another competition to be won. If so, I think I’ll be happy to lose.

At Penn, there is a stigma around taking care of ourselves. It’s as if we are in ancient Sparta and respecting our limits means that we are too weak to survive.

Not everyone has the same endurance. Some people can thrive on four hours of sleep, others need eight and there is nothing better or worse about either group. If anything, I think it takes great courage to admit when you need help. Maturity is the recognition of our strengths and our weaknesses and the knowledge of how to compromise between the two.

Nor do I think that we should limit self-care to just physical health. I think we should take care of ourselves in all aspects — emotional, mental, social. When we find ourselves in a situation that is dangerous or uncomfortable to us, we should never have any fear of saying “No.”

I have ended up in many emotionally harmful situations because I was too afraid to decline the other person. I worried what they would call me. What I should have done was put myself first, regardless of what they thought of me.

It is okay to be selfish sometimes. As long as you have judged, as best you can, that it is crucial for your wellbeing. My friend once told me that I didn’t know how to take care of other people because I didn’t know how to take care of myself. Nowadays, I’m starting to see more and more of what he meant. It’s hard to try to offer someone else something when you have nothing of your own to give.

Everything starts with the self. So if you need to take the day off from some of your classes today, tell your professor I gave my blessing.