This is why I can't have nice things
On Pelotons, investing in yourself, and reframing mom guilt
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I bought a Peloton.
I still have mixed feelings about it because I never considered myself a “Peloton person”, the culture and aesthetic surrounding it much more prevalent in my mind than the actual bike, but after a year of successfully lowering both my cholesterol and my risk for heart disease, I knew I wanted to keep up the momentum as we head into the winter months.
Plus, I live in Colorado and as someone who does not ski, snowboard, or show-shoe, my outdoor options for physical activity are limited. Sure, I’ll continue hiking on the weekends, but I needed to figure out how to keep it up during the Monday thru Friday grind.
And so here I am.
To be honest, I still kind of want to throw up. These bikes are not cheap and I am terrible at investing in myself. That’s not to say I’m not good at spending on myself - I’ve often given into impulsive purchases that felt good in the moment but that brought me no long-term value (ask me how many purses I have).
It’s something I’ve been really working on these past few months as I’ve both explored how my brain works (hello women misdiagnosed-with-anxiety-instead-of-ADHD friends!) and made efforts to invest in more tangible things that will make my life better and easier and have medium to long-term benefits.
For example, I bought a daybed for my office so that I can sit in multiple places while also creating a space for my son to hang out comfortably while I’m working or writing. I also bought some rocking chairs for my front porch so that we can drink “tea” together and keep an eye on the neighborhood goings-on (mostly who’s speeding and is where I am writing right now, curled up under a heated blanket with my dog and a coffee by my side, proving it was a smart purchase).
But the Peloton feels different because it’s 100% for me, which is something I really struggle with and I know I am not the only mom who struggles with investing in herself.
We are, after all, socialized to prioritize everyone else at the expense of ourselves, so even when our rational brain knows we are allowed to do something for us, there’s oftentimes a little voice in the back our heads screaming that we are doing something wrong (and that voice is usually the patriarchy).
Complicating matters is that it cost just about as much as my 40th birthday vacation a few years ago, when I went on a cruise with my (best) friend of 25+ years for the first time in probably two decades, the vacation that led to enough comments about how I chose to spend my money that it was one of the final nails in the coffin of my marriage. (I paid cash, by the way. I saved for over 6 months).
So, suffice to say, I have some issues, some real and some imagined, around spending money on bigger ticket items that are just for me. This is made worse by the fact that I spent many years not trusting myself, allowing the narrative that because I made bad money moves in my 20’s, I was not to be trusted with the bigger financial decisions, messaging that I both internalized and sometimes fed into because if you’re going to be judged for something, you may as well do that thing.
Obviously, I now know this is all bullshit.
I also know that the little ball of tension that had lodged itself in my solar plexus for several years and made me feel like I was constantly in trouble or wrong wasn’t anxiety so much as it was my inner voice struggling to break free, begging me to trust it (and probably a little ADHD thrown in for good measure).
These days, I do trust it, but sometimes that old self-doubt creeps back in. And when it does, I choose to explore why that is and then use the rational part of my brain to reframe it.
Here’s how I did that in this particular situation, although it can be applied elsewhere:
Narrative: As a mom, I am very mindful of how I spend my dollars. When I have extra money, I should do something “responsible” with it - snowball some debt, increase my contributions to retirement or the 529, put into savings, etc. Isn’t this just taking money away from my future financial health or my son’s future?
Reframe: I am worthy of investing in myself. A Peloton is cheaper than a heart attack and improving my physical health will also improve my mental health, which will make me a better, more present mom who will be able to remain active for longer.
Narrative: I should have gotten a used bike and/or the cheaper version. Why did I feel the need to buy new? Is something wrong with me? Am I irresponsible?
Reframe: Yes, used would be cheaper, but your brain is your brain and it’s okay to do what makes sense to you. Buying used meant not knowing where it came from, how it was stored, treated, or used, didn’t include a warranty, and would have required figuring out the logistics to get it to your house. And when you did get it to your house, you’d be putting it together yourself and every time it made a squeak, you’d be worried you did it wrong and would be hesitant to use it. It’s okay to acknowledge this and pay extra for the peace of mind, if you’re able.
Narrative: I should have gotten a regular bike that didn’t include all the bells and whistles.
Reframe: I am a single mom with majority physical custody and work a full-time job. I know myself and I know that I need the community and accountability pieces that come with the Peloton community because joining a gym or going on kid-free evening walks with friends isn’t feasible. Also, I’ve been pondering this on and off for a few years and it’s okay to trust myself. Plus, if you hate it, there’s a return period.
If you’ve made it this far, then you’ve likely realized that this reframe could be applied to nearly anything because mom guilt can creep in pretty much anywhere, even when you (like me) think you’re immune to it. So if you’re a mom that struggles with investing in herself, I hope you give yourself permission to do so (and that this reframe approach helps you, too!).
I would also love to hear from you on how you reframe things that you feel guilty about even though you know you shouldn’t.
In the meantime, I’ll be cycling through these reframes for probably a month.
Welcome to my world.
(But also, where are my Peloton folks??)
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I fully support this - one thing that is so hard as a solo parent is that nearly every act of "self care" has to happen in the house. Unless you are lucky enough to sneak away during the day when the kids are at day care or school, if you want to do something for yourself, you have to do it at home. Gone are the gym memberships or the yoga studio, gone is the indulgence to get a massage or even take an evening walk. You simply cannot just leave the kids alone and hiring a babysitter for these things is just so expensive. So I applaud this indulgence. Not only is it for you, it's also one of the few things you can do for yourself before the kids wake up or late at night etc.
Allison,
Bought the Peleton tread mill and LOVE it. No need to think it's extravagant - it will last a lifetime. I have replaced the belt twice and have logged over 30,000 miles - remember:
Right foot - Left foot - Right Foot...