We often say, “I need some me time.”
We say it when we want to rest, to escape, to pull back from the noise. And so we find a couch, a screen, a silence call it peace, wrap it in solitude, and convince ourselves we’re finally giving time to us.
But is it really “me time” if all you’re doing is disappearing?
Because here’s something I’ve started to see:
The time we call “me time” is often time we give to others, scrolling through other people’s lives, consuming other people’s content, tending to other people’s emotions, even when we’re alone. We’re not rebuilding ourselves we’re just stepping out of the arena for a breath, not healing but numbing.
And the time we call “busy” the time we label as sacrifice, burden, or obligation, turns out to be some of the most personal time of all.
Because that’s the time we’re building.
Learning.
Stretching.
Sweating toward something.
Showing up in a way that tomorrow will thank us for.
When you’re “busy,” you may be feeding your family, or feeding your mind. You may be stuck in meetings or stuck on ideas but something in you is moving. You’re earning, shaping, investing in the version of yourself you’ve promised to become.
And yet we only call it work.
Never call it self-love.
We treat time spent on growth as something we survive.
While time spent in pause is treated like a reward.
But what if it’s the other way around?
What if “me time” is actually the time where you are in full creation of your life?
What if self-care is not just a massage or a moment of silence, but the hours you spend sharpening your mind, pushing your body, lifting others because that gives meaning back to you?
What if we stopped dividing time into “mine” and “not mine” and started asking, who does this moment make me into?
That, maybe, is the real test.
Because “me time” isn’t about escape.
It’s about alignment.
It’s about choosing presence over avoidance.
And realizing that sometimes, when you’re knee-deep in demands, you’re actually knee-deep in purpose.
But am not saying you should not have a rest.
