¿Quién cuida de ella ? 👩🏻
Lo que los hombres no entienden es que Nadie cocina para ella, Nadie le limpia la casa, Nadie le prepara una medicina cuando ella se enferma, Nadie cuida de ella cuando está enferma, Nadie le prepara la comida, Nadie le lava la ropa, Nadie se asegura de que ella esté bien.
Una mujer siempre es vista como alguien que necesita
cuidar de todos pero
¿Quién cuida de ella?.#maternidad #paratii #mujeres
It’s a question that often lingers in my mind, and perhaps yours too: who truly takes care of the woman who takes care of everyone else? I’ve found myself pondering this many times, especially after a long day when I've managed countless tasks, big and small, for my family or household. We, as women, are often the primary caregivers, the organizers, the silent engines keeping everything running smoothly. We're the ones who naturally step into that role of ensuring everyone else is comfortable, fed, and well. But what happens when the tables turn? Who is there for *her*? The article beautifully highlights this stark reality: often, when she’s exhausted or unwell, nobody cooks for her, nobody cleans her house, nobody prepares medicine when she's sick. It’s as if her role as caregiver is so ingrained that the idea of her needing care becomes an afterthought. I’ve personally experienced moments where I’m feeling under the weather, and I still find myself pushing through, making sure meals are prepared or important appointments aren't missed, because the thought of someone else stepping in just doesn't occur, or the expectation isn't there. This isn’t just about physical tasks like doing the laundry or making sure dinner is on the table. It's the invisible emotional and mental load – remembering birthdays, managing schedules, anticipating needs, and being the emotional anchor for everyone around her. It's the constant mental checklist that runs in the background. We are the ones who often make sure she is well (referring to her role in ensuring others' well-being). The paradox is that while she's ensuring everyone else's well-being, her own often gets pushed to the back burner because nobody cares for her when she's sick or simply overwhelmed. So, how do we begin to shift this dynamic? For me, it starts with acknowledging this invisible labor. It means learning to ask for help, even when it feels unnatural. It means partners and family members actively looking for ways to contribute without being asked – stepping up to say, 'I'll take care of dinner tonight,' or 'Let me clean up.' It’s about creating systems of mutual support where care flows both ways. Because a woman who feels seen, supported, and cared for is better equipped to care for others, and most importantly, for herself. Let's start the conversation about truly caring for the caregivers among us, ensuring that the woman who always makes sure others are okay, also receives the care she deserves.