Why Do I Feel So Empty?

ivia bakes sourdough every week.
Her home is spotless (ok, right after the cleaning lady is done).
She dresses tastefully.
She even says Tehillim every day.

And still… she felt hollow.

“I’m doing everything I’m supposed to. Why do I feel like a shadow of myself?”

A wife. A mother. But not… vibrant. Not unhappy but not really happy either.

And when her husband came home each night, she was desperate for him to notice her, to praise and thank her, and rescue her from the load.  How would he know how hard she worked, how tired she was, if she didn't greet him with a big sigh, complaints about her day, and plenty of self-pity? 

But coming home to a prickly procupine did not stir up his gratitude or awaken his protective instinct. He did not insist that she take a break.  He did not grab an apron and clean up the kitchen or gather the kids for bath and bedtime. 

Instead, he grabbed a quick bite and ran back out to daven and learn for the rest of the evening.  And the lonely ache only grew.

Actually, she didn't really like herself so much anymore either.  What kind of mother yells at her kids, barking orders, too busy to hear what's on their minds? 

What happened to the fun-loving, popular girl she had been?  Is this the real her now - responsible, organized, but miserable?

She didn’t want more to do. She wanted to feel like she matters again.

When Tzivia began coaching, she insisted, “I don’t need self-care. I’m not into massages or mani-pedis. And I definitely do not have time to add even one more thing to my day. Don't talk to me about fluff. I want real solutions.”

But I gently asked her:

“When was the last time you did something just because it delighted you?”

She was silent.

Because she didn’t remember.

Self-care isn’t selfish. 

Tzivia had believed that being a good wife meant sacrificing her own needs for everyone else’s.  What choice did she have anyway?  Things needed to get done!

But the truth is: Hashem created her with needs. With desires. With a soul and a body that are nourished by beauty, friendship, stimulation, and rest.

It’s not indulgent to take care of yourself.  It’s essential.

Think of self-care like food.

You can fast for one day, sure. But by the end, you’ll be dizzy, irritable, weak.
You can’t live on one meal a week. Or even one a day.

We’re meant to eat consistently. At least three times a day.
Some foods are amazing, like sushi and cheesecake.
Others are simple, like rice cakes and tuna or lentil soup.

But every bite counts. Every one gives you fuel. Energy. Life.

Self-care is the same. It’s not a “treat.” It’s fuel for your neshama. And it needs to be consistent.

Some self-care is amazing, like painting, walking in nature, or singing with your kids.
Some is simple, like putting on hand cream or sitting in silence with your tea.

But they all nourish you. And you need a variety.  Just as broccoli and chicken each provide different nutrients, different kinds of self-care nourish different parts of your soul. Think a hot bath, a good shmooze with your sister, listening to a shiur, doing a Sudoku.

Her first act of self-care?

“I used to paint before I got married,” Tzivia said. “I don’t have time, space, or energy for it now.  It's not realistic at all.”

But she allowed herself to buy a set of watercolors anyway.  She packed up the pack-n-play Shmueli outgrew a month ago, found an old 2-foot folding table in the shed, and carved out a tiny "art studio" in a corner of her room.  

She started painting one night a week after the little ones were in bed and the big ones were occupied with homework and friends.

Her paintings would not win any awards.  But they brought her back to life.

Chipping away at her resistance, guilt, and shame, she added little pockets of joy to her daily routine - 30 extra seconds in the shower just noticing the warmth, calling her BFF on the way to work, sipping her coffee and reading one paragraph from her emunah sefer, a 10-minute power nap on the couch while the baby and toddler ripped tissues into a thousand pieces all over the playroom, streteches on the floor while they climbed all over her, a hot bath before bed...

And slowly, everything changed.

Her husband noticed her, finally.

Her husband came home and saw her laughing with the kids. She greeted him with a warm smile. He lingered at the table longer. He complimented and thanked her for the delicious supper.  

One night, he said, “You seem happier lately. It’s nice.”

Another night, he asked her if she wanted to go for a quick walk while the big kids "babysat" the little ones for a few minutes.  

That small shift in her energy drew him toward her. Not because she changed him. But because she came home to herself.

Self-Care

Self-care isn’t optional in a marriage. It’s the foundation. It’s how a wife becomes a source of life, light, and softness. It’s not about shopping or spa days (though it certainly can be!!)

It’s about asking yourself:

• What lights me up?

• What would feel delicious right now?

• What would make me feel like me again?

Then doing it. Without guilt. Without apology. Without permission.

Because Hashem made you worthy of happiness.

And it's YOUR job to make yourself happy.  Not his.  Paradoxically, when you are making yourself happy, he can't do enough to make you happy, too.

Ready to stop feeling invisible?

If you’re doing all the right things and still feel hollow and disconnected...

👉 Schedule a free call with me 

Let’s help you feel alive again.
Not just functioning. But glowing. 💗