The inner struggle

Last Thursday morning, a former Bible school mate reached out to me about joining a Zoom talk organized by a Pastor. Interestingly, I just posted on my social media less than an hour ago stating that I intend to avoid over-commitment and embrace a slower pace of life. Since he's also in my social media network, I wonder if he saw my post and thought I might be available to join his circle.

Because he is an active member of my church and serves in ministry, he often comes over to say hello when I attend services in person. Therefore, I did not want to reject his invitation. However, when he sent me the notes for the three-week course, which was held on three consecutive Thursday nights, I realized that it was not quite what I had expected.

I was actually relieved that my Thursday-night associate degree class had been moved to Wednesday nights for the final module, which meant my Thursday evenings were finally free. Still, I did not have the heart to decline, so I attended the first session.

My main concern was that I had expected it to be a talk delivered by the speaker. Instead, it was more of a sharing session. We were placed into small breakout groups, where everyone took turns reading the notes and reflecting on how to improve ourselves by developing a mindset geared toward success.

The challenge is that I’m already quite busy with my studies and my 24/7 caregiving responsibilities for my husband, who has spinal stenosis, while I myself also undergoing dialysis three times a week to stay alive. At this stage in my life, I’m no longer seeking success or fame.

Most of the others in the group were involved in property or insurance and spoke mainly about sales. I felt like the odd one out because I was more focused on mental health and wellness.

As the night went by, I realised that after the three-week programme, they would be choosing the next group of trainers to continue multiplying the programme’s success as mentorship. This made me wonder: Am I ready to become a mentor?

Perhaps not right now, especially when my hands are already full. The sessions are held late at night, when my husband is usually asleep, and I feel guilty whenever I have to speak and the noises awake him. I can’t move to another room because the network becomes unreliable at night, and the noise from the highway in the other room makes it difficult to concentrate. Our bedroom is the quietest place in the house.

So, I find myself in a dilemma. I had promised myself that I would slow down and avoid becoming overcommitted again. Yet there is still a nagging feeling that I am not using the God-given talents I have to teach, inspire and encourage others.

On the other hand, when I look back at my life, I realise that I have been caring for others since I was eight years old. After my mother passed away, I became the caregiver for my sick father until he died when I was sixteen. Six months later, I met my husband and have cared for him for the past 31 years. I also cared for my husband’s father until he passed away last year.

I have spent my entire life putting everyone else’s needs before my own. Is it wrong for me to focus on my own self-care now—especially when life is so uncertain and I may not have forever? Could I be “excused” for choosing to care for myself at this stage of my life?

I simply want to spend this season of my life deepening my theology and enjoying a peaceful, quiet retirement with my husband. Each day, I’m grateful to wake up alive—to care for him while we still have one another, decide what to prepare for our meals, and earn a modest income by renting out our extra rooms to help pay off the remaining mortgage. I even enjoy relaxing with AI-generated Chinese dramas about fishing lately.

I no longer seek success, fame, or recognition. I just want to slow down, appreciate the little things, and stop to smell the flowers. Perhaps some people may judge me as being “stagnant” in middle age because I no longer wish to mentor others, but their validation doesn’t matter much to me. What matters is living a quiet, meaningful life with my husband while we are still blessed to have each other.

Honestly, I’m no longer interested in being part of the rat race on what they think about success. I may finish the next two remaining nights because I promised my Bible schoolmate, but I hope he won’t feel offended when I decide not to continue to the next level of mentoring. I really don’t want my phone vibrating constantly with group-chat discussions about this and that on how to be more successful (sales or marketing). These days, I simply don’t have the time or energy for small talk.