The Day I Could Finally Say, 'It's Okay to Be Me'

For a long time, I kept thinking,
"I want to be a kinder person."

In my work as a physical therapist, I have always valued being close to those I care for.

At home, as a daughter, I also wanted to treat my mother with kindness.

That is why I wanted to be someone who could listen with a smile, even after coming home exhausted from work. I wanted to be someone who could reach out and help the moment someone was in trouble.
That was my "ideal" self.

But reality was different.
When I finally got home after work and thought I could take a breath,
my mother would call out to me,
"Hey, could you just..."
At times like that, I would sometimes say,


"Can you do that later?"

My mother would say,
"I'm sorry."
and return to her room.

Watching her back as she walked away, I would blame myself.
"And I'm a physical therapist."
"Even though my job is to be there for people."
"How can I not even be kind to my own mother?"
I kept tormenting myself with those words.

But as I spent more time with my mother, I began to realize something little by little.

I had been wearing armor made of "because" statements without even realizing it:
"Because I am a physical therapist."
"Because I am a daughter."
"I must be a kind person."

That armor wasn't put on me by anyone else.
I had put it on myself.

And there was one more thing I realized.

I had misunderstood what kindness was.
Doing everything for someone.
Always responding with a smile.
Putting myself last for the sake of others.
I thought that was the only form of kindness.

But through my time with my mother and interacting with many people during home-visit rehabilitation,
I was taught that this was not the case.

Watching over someone is also kindness. Trusting and waiting for someone is also kindness.
When you are tired, taking a little rest is also kindness.

I came to realize that respecting the time someone needs to live in their own way
is also a form of kindness.

When I was able to think that way, something changed within me.

I am not a perfect physical therapist.
I am not a perfect daughter.
There are days when I get tired.
There are days when I run out of patience.
Even so, my feelings of wanting to cherish my mother do not change.

Perhaps just having those feelings is enough.
When I was able to think that, for the first time,

"It's okay to be me."

I felt like I could finally say that.

Even now, there are days when I cannot be kind.
There are still days when I blame myself.

However, unlike before, I rarely deny my entire self
because of just one day.

'It's okay to be me.'

These words are not an act of giving up.

Moving forward, I don't want to aim for perfection,
but rather be someone who can be a little kinder to both myself and my mother.

While listening to the 'unseen voices,' I will continue to put things into words, one by one.