When we think about love, I think most of us fantasize about that storybook fairy tale, with your perfect person living happily ever after. But more often than not, I think we could all use a little reminder to rewrite that narrative and spend more time investing in loving ourselves. It’s a lesson I’ve been working to reteach myself lately, and it’s a lot easier said than done.

The past 18 months have been pretty crazy in my world. I left a career I spent nearly a decade building. I started a new job in a completely different industry. I became a mom. I moved away from the only place I’ve ever really called home. Everything that was once comfortable and familiar went out the window. We started a new chapter, but it felt more like starting an entirely new book.

Don’t get me wrong, I chose and genuinely looked forward to every one of these changes. They’re all amazing, exciting changes. Many of those changes were even fueled by love. Love for my growing family, love for the life we are building together, and love for a challenging new adventure.

But an avalanche of change all at once can be hard to handle, especially when you feel responsible for carving the path to your family’s happily ever after. I had completely forgotten that I needed to be my own fairy godmother before I could strap the car seat into our pumpkin  carriage and be on our merry way.

It took me a minute to figure out what that looked like and how to carve a little space into my heart for myself again. Slowly, I started doing little things for myself. When I say little things, I’m talking about lighting a candle in the kitchen because it made the house smell less like stale macaroni and cheese—kind of little. But that turned into taking the time to make home-cooked meals more often or spending an hour at the gym a few times a week. The little things slowly grew into bigger things, and I could feel the difference it made for me.

I went from digging out of my avalanche with a spoon to annihilating it with a John Deere snowblower. I realized that asking for help wasn’t a sign of failure and taking time for myself wasn’t taking time away from my family, friends, or career. It’s the little bit of pixie dust I need to make the fairy-tale life of my fantasies a reality.

I still have a long way to go, and some weeks are easier than others, but I write to you today hoping you’ll remember that a bit of pixie dust goes a long way. Don’t forget to make space for yourself in your fairy-tale love story, too.