dear moms: what happens when your ten minutes of movement become a date with yourself

Since coming back from our family cruise, I made a quiet promise to myself: start small and stay consistent. No pressure. No dramatic “new me.” Just something I could actually show up for.

For me, that “something” started as ten minutes of movement. Not a full workout. Not a gym plan. Just ten minutes I could commit to, no matter what.

What changed everything wasn’t the workout itself—it was the way I started thinking about it.

Those ten minutes became a date with myself—a moment I refused to cancel. Because we show up for everyone else without thinking twice—our kids, our partners, our homes. But when it comes to ourselves? We often push it off. Move it to tomorrow. Pretend it doesn’t matter.

So I stopped doing that.

If I can be endlessly reliable for everyone I love, I could be reliable for me, too. And showing up became as simple as honoring those ten minutes.

Some days, I missed it. Some days, life got in the way, and the ten minutes slipped. And that’s okay. The point isn’t perfection—it’s showing up as often as I can.

What started as a tiny workout window slowly grew into other small acts of self-care: coloring, painting, reading, journaling—anything that felt nourishing. The secret wasn’t the activity. It was showing up for myself consistently, even in the smallest way.

Sometimes those ten minutes even became family time—my husband joining, my son joining, our dog joining. But the heart of it hasn’t changed: it all started with treating ten minutes for myself as something worth protecting.

And that’s what I want to share with every mom who feels like she doesn’t have the time, energy, or clarity to start:

You don’t need hours. You don’t need perfection. You just need ten minutes.

Ten minutes of movement.

Ten minutes of self-care.

Ten minutes that are yours—and that you protect.

Miss a day? Miss a few? That’s fine. Keep coming back. Every little moment you show up for yourself is a win.

Because consistency isn’t built in big heroic moments—it grows in tiny promises kept.

Pick something small. Pick something realistic. Pick your ten minutes—and make it yours. Your future self will thank you.