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and then it was summer …
Things happen so quickly.
For months, we were all building up to our family visit, and then before you knew it, everyone was back home, having survived a whirlwind of intensity for several days, but now onto other things in life. My brother is at home, and his epic ‘Dazed & Confused’ party is today. And then, before you know it, Jo will be flying back to France. And Dave will be heading to South America to climb another mountain.
For John & I ~ we have dinner at our favorite restaurant for our anniversary (three years of wedded bliss!!! eight years since our first date!!!) and then a trip to Iceland to celebrate his 35th birthday. Moving to yet another new office & then my work people coming over for food (the pressure!) and new restaurants opening. Heading to Jackson Hole again (after four years! how has it been that long?!?) in September. Football, holidays.
When we were little, time stretched lazily before us. Summer days filled with buzzing bees, mud pies, exotic explorations into the depths of the neighborhood woods. Bike rides and stick hockey. Whole worlds could be formed and destroyed in the time between when you fled the house in the morning until you trekked home as the sun began to sink in the sky, hungry for dinner. Imagination was king. Inconsequential things were full of untold magic.
The weather this year has been strange. We went from 50 degree days of gray skies and rain to full-fledged summer in less than a week. Today the high is 90, and we’ve already shut the windows and switched on the A/C. This morning, as we sipped coffee and waited for Dora to arrive, we ruminated on the fact that come July, we will have lived in our own house for a full year. And we’ve furnished and decorated it. And paid the mortgage on time. We are fully grown up.
Adulthood is odd. It seems to be a constant exercise in filling time. Categorizing things in our worlds to create order and sense. We all slog to work, and then flee home. We cook dinners. We have children. We begin the process all over again.
Why?
I’ve been thinking about this a lot.
Not to be depressing, but what’s the point? I mean, yes, I like my nice house and my slick car. I like my husband’s Jeep and driving with the roof off. I like ordering clothing online, and buying insane facial products. I like having sushi twice a week. I like all those things, so I work in order to have the money to pursue what I like. But honestly, what’s the point? Each person’s life is a grain of sand on a huge beach in relationship to time. We are all scurrying here and there, learning languages and looking at art (well, sort of. I mean, people don’t do that as much any more). We’re suing people, and being audited. We’re updating labor laws, and stream-lining tax processes.
Why?
Is it to give ourselves some sort of purpose? I mean, IS there a greater purpose? Is there a reason that a tiny blue planet, third from the sun of THIS solar system, is populated by bi-pedal creatures without body hair? What is the reasoning behind their existence/ their evolution? What is the grand plan? If – in the end – things mean nothing at all, then shouldn’t we all re-focus how we spend our 80 – 100 years breathing?
For me, I guess it all comes back to children. I never had a strong desire to have children. But now, John and I are in the minority of people our age without them. Everyone says that having children is life’s greatest purpose. But … seriously, why?
So they can grow up, and slog to work and flee home… cook dinners, do laundry. Have more kids? Somehow, that just doesn’t fully make sense to me. (I know I will be told it’s because I don’t have children, so I couldn’t understand. Totally fair. But I’m not going to pop out a child just to see if that somehow changes things for me).
Anyway. I’ve found that the older I get, the faster time goes by. Like how an hour-glass always looks like it’s speeding up as it nears the end of the sand. Everything happens so fast. Nothing lasts long enough. Days slip by in a blink. We all still feel like we’re seventeen.
But we’re not.
family
Last June, nearly my whole immediate family gathered in Belford Northumberland to remember my Granny, who had left us at the ripe old age of 93 the autumn before. The American contingent of the family, and my youngest cousin (who had recently relocated to Japan) were unable to be there for her funeral, so we planned something different.
Cancer fucked it up. Cancer seriously sucks.
So my brother, husband and I went over, and represented our little family. And in the heady rush of being surrounded by a lot of people who look a lot like us, we all committed to seeing each other more often than every six or seven years. Trips were planned and itinerary discussed.
But we are of a generation of big words and smaller follow through, so while the dream sounded amazing, it also sounded far away and slightly unlikely. And then… all of a sudden … it wasn’t. And on Wednesday night, my youngest cousin (who sometimes feels like what I would guess having a sister feels like) arrived in Philadelphia with her husband all the way from Tokyo. And Thursday morning dawned and my brother and his French lady-love flew into Baltimore. And today, as I sit on the local train all the way home to Thorndale, my aunt and cousin arrive from Scotland. And for a few brief days, we will be a big family, all together, looking shockingly alike, from many different cultures.
I never knew that not all families are like our family. The amount of emails bouncing from the U.K, Italy, Australia, the U.S. and very occasionally Japan would make your head spin. But that’s what makes it sort of cool. No matter how much distance exists, no matter how many wounds have been inflicted (mostly. some are never forgotten as I am patently aware) ~ we are each other’s family. And we not only love each other, but we like each other. No matter how much time lapses between visits, and hairstyles change and people get married and divorced, it feels like no time has passed at all.
I feel overwhelmingly full of love right now. And so happy to have my brother at home for a little, and my cousins here (for the first time ever!!) and my Mama to be surrounded by two of her sisters (the good ones, wink wink). I cannot wait to get off the train, and spend days just being part of this big, breathing thing called family.
soap + water
Let’s talk about skin care.
I know I’ve blogged about it a little bit before. I am a creature of habit, and I have been diligently washing and moisturizing my face twice a day since the tender age of 12. I was so devoted to it, I would wash and moisturize even when black out drunk in college. That’s heart.
I am genetically blessed with pretty decent skin (and pretty dark circles under my eyes). And for a long time, I didn’t think much about changing up my routine. I used a cleanser with salactic acid (blemishes, yech) and a collagen elastin moisturizer from St. Ives that I still think is pretty awesome. I used a deep cream cleanser in the shower and every once in a while, an apricot scrub. I bought all my products at Wal-Mart, or Target or Walgreens.
But here’s the thing about hitting 36 and noticing that your skin is drying out and that your dark circles are starting to look like bruises ~ it necessitates re-examining your skin care routine.
I’d tried some products years ago (when money was less tight) called Lumene (available at CVS and from Finland, I believe). Lumene has a couple different regimens for different ages. I used their Vitamin C moisturizers, and loved them. So, armed with the knowledge that I needed to take better care of my skin, I stocked up on day cream, night cream, eye serum and toner back in January. And I absolutely noticed a difference in the upgrade. Less dry skin, to start. My skin looked less dull, too. Huge plus. I wasn’t wild about the eye serum, so I trekked back out and bought myself an absurdly tiny and absurdly expensive (for me) little jar from Olay. I was feeling kinda happy with the changes.
And then John’s cousin pitched me on Rodan + Fields.
Having already made changes that I felt happy with (and that didn’t bankrupt me) I wavered on whether or not to try this online phenomenon. But – mostly because I’m a sucker for products – I went ahead and jumped off the cliff. I ordered a regimen and a couple supplemental products (eye cream and night moisturizer). Everything arrived last week in adorable packaging, with specific instructions on how to ease into these new products.
I – being super stubborn and a know-it-all — studiously ignored the idea of ‘easing in.’
The first couple days I was less than impressed ~ trying to figure out in my head what made these wildly expensive products better than my CVS brands. But I’d spent the money and I was determined to give it a chance. So I kept going. I started doing more reading about natural facial cleansers (oil-cleansing, for example). Because none of R + F’s products foam. Not actually a bad thing, but definitely an adjustment.
R + F have 4 regimens, and I am on the Reverse one (I guess all my previous care and only being 36 didn’t score a different result ~ have to proactively prevent against aging).
I’m still not 100% on the bandwagon. The cleansing scrub is pretty awesome. And the Vitamin C + Retinol step is my favorite. I am begrudgingly acknowledging that my skin looks good. Not insanely different than it looked before. But not bad. I like the idea that I’m taking care of myself (within days of getting R + F I also got a new Sonicare toothbrush and if that isn’t decadent, I don’t know what is!). I have begun to wonder if my reticense to give it credit stems more from the cult-like culture of R + F and less from the efficacy of their products.
Either way, I’m a week into my new journey. I’m being much more skeptical than necessary. But I’ll let you know how things are going in another couple weeks.
Till then, don’t just use bar soap ~ that’s what my husband uses, and I think Kate nearly fainted when she heard that. 😉
66 days
It takes awhile for me to buy into things. I hear them, I process them, I’m pretty sure I know better. And usually, when all is said and done, there’s a 50/50 blend of old and new in my life.
I love when people tell me what works, what I must do. Aaaand that’s sarcastic.
But a couple months ago our company brought in a consultant. (Cue initial eye roll). And I was surprised because the things I learned from him were fascinating, and stimulated my brain. Little tidbits ~ things I’d never thought of before. Perspective.
For example, did you know that multiple studies have been done and it takes 66 days for something to become a habit? It takes 66 days of repeated actions for it to become embedded in your brain as natural. Sixty-six days is no joke.
I mean that sincerely. Because after the hubs and I got back from Italy (both an amazing and excruciating trip) I decided that I needed to make some changes. And I needed to stick to them. I’m really *really* good at trying new things — but I don’t always tough it out. It’s been a four-year journey for me ~ going from someone who never thought about a thing she ate to a person who thinks about everything she eats. And when she eats it. And how much of it she eats. A person who drinks green juice and green smoothies and organic raw kombucha. But once I began tuning into my body, I couldn’t turn the awareness off. So every day is a new beginning of choices, of decisions. Of picking what works for me. (And sidenote, those things have changed and evolved over time).
When I was diagnosed with MS, I decided that nothing was going to change. But that was unrealistic. Like new parents saying that having a child wouldn’t change them. It does. It’s inevitable. Some of the changes are necessary. And some happen without even acknowledging they happened. And some things you fight to keep the same.
But the flip side of the coin is that if you DO decide you want to make a change, you actually have to make the change. You can’t talk about it and then make exceptions every other day. You have to choose to change, and then stick with it.
That’s always been hard for me. I’m an excellent complainer.
It started small. All my ‘healthy’ eating turned out to be not that healthy after all. And then I discovered, that the better you take care of your body & your insides, the more you feel it, and want to stick with it. When you are eating crap and drinking all the time, you aren’t really in touch with how shitty you feel. But when you start to gain perspective, everything begins to shift. Drink water. Get sleep. Eat green veggies. The result is feeling better, having more energy, and generally having less health issues. Good stuff, right?
But the other thing that happened when I was diagnosed was that I went ahead and broke my foot. And it threw my body into a tailspin. And all the healthy things that I’d worked hard to include in my life (running, yoga, hiking, etc) became infinitely harder. I had weakness in my legs, my feet both hurt and were numb all the time …. It was frustrating, depressing, and didn’t inspire much hope for movement.
I sporadically went to the gym and swam laps. But that takes SO MUCH WORK. And it was hard to get into a rhythm with it. When we moved to our new house, I once again joined the gym. I have yet to go. It’s a pretty big money suck. And then, in October, John found out he needed surgery. Big surgery. And he decided to buy a stationary bike.
It sat in our spare room and then our basement, for probably six weeks. It became what all home exercise equipment seems to become — a collector of dust. As our Italy trip approached, I hopped on it once or twice (because clearly, that’s all that is necessary to lose weight and look like a super model). And then we went to Italy. And we did a lot of walking. And I could actually do the walking. Which was a crazy realization. And I started to check my steps on my phone and become aware of how much exercise I was getting daily.
So even though my eating in Italy was terrible, and I paid for it, it also showed me that I was capable of more movement than I knew. So we came home, and I decided (armed with the new knowledge about 66 days) that I would start riding the bike.
I didn’t ride it every day at the beginning. I don’t ride it every day now. But I ride it most days. And I have built up my time and my resistance. (My insanely competitive nature has come in handy!) The other thing I started was tracking my food intake. The first couple weeks were more informational that anything — I logged what I ate. I didn’t change much. I didn’t care if I went over my calorie goal. But then it started to niggle in my brain — if you want a burger, ride the bike. You get 500 more calories! If you want wine, ride the bike. If you don’t want to ride the bike, eat zucchini spirals and drink water.
I have not hit 66 days yet. I’m at 50 (I know this, because My Fitness Pal sends me notifications with exclamation points which means it’s a good thing!). But just like green juice and green smoothies began to change my life four years ago, making exercise a priority — even for 50 days, after such a long break — has changed my life.
I know that sounds pretty intense. But I have started to take better care of myself because I feel the difference. I’m actually watching what I’m eating, and I’m moving my body & muscles. I’m getting a healthy sweat in nearly every day (which has done wonders for my stress levels, I have to say!). It feels good to be focused, and to also see results. Do I look like Christy Turlington? No. I am certain that will never happen. But my body feels tighter, I am sleeping better, and I’ve lost a couple of pounds. So my clothing fits better, my eyes are brighter and I don’t have such dark under-eye circles.
About two weeks in, I really thought I’d see something. And I saw nothing. I weighed MORE, I was tired all the time (this is nothing new — MS takes care of that on the regular). But I felt like I was hitting my head against a wall. I took a day off here and there, and curled up on the couch, drank wine and ate sushi. And then I got up the next day and tried again. And the longer I pushed myself to ride the bike, hit the bag, the better I began to feel.
I am proud of myself for making the commitment to do this for 66 days. Because even 50 in, I know I’ll stick with it. I am finally feeling the benefits and the difference in myself. I’ve seen all the memes about life being short, and enjoying the cake. I enjoy the cake. But I also enjoy the kombucha, and the spiralized zucchini, and the green smoothies. And those things make my whole body and my mind feel good, too. So that’s a huge plus.
home
John and I have lived in our house for eight months. And it’s just beginning to feel like home.
At first, it felt overwhelmingly big — we went from a one bedroom apartment to a three-story townhouse, so that was to be expected. And everything felt new, and as though it belonged to someone else. I felt awkward in our kitchen, and disinclined to cook because everything felt so unfamiliar.
Slowly, as the months slipped by, and the leaves changed from vibrant green to reds and yellows, and then became bare branches, we’ve settled in. Work commutes have become routine, we’ve found grocery stores and know where products are — we’ve found homes for all our little nick knacks. I don’t feel strange using our oven or our stove. It feels really nice.
The thing about change is that it’s ever-present, and I look to find routine and familiarity everywhere because I find comfort in habits. I guess, in some ways, that’s a little exhausting.
When John and I were talking about buying a house, and where we wanted to live, we spoke about Chester County as a far off dream for another time. As though it couldn’t happen. And then, somehow, we made the decision that it was really the only place we wanted to choose permanently. And we made sacrifices (I mean, does anyone like getting up habitually before 6am to then catch a train for an hour plus ride to get to work? …. I’m pretty sure no one ‘likes’ it).
The thing about moving somewhere as an adult is that there aren’t a lot of built-in ways to start a new social life, etc. As a kid, you have school and sports and are surrounded by people your own age with similar interests (well, some of them have similar interests). As an adult, it’s harder to find the pockets of people who are on the same level as you. And it’s even harder to make friends, because so many people already have a group of friends they are comfortable with. It’s funny to think of working on one’s social life, and taking risks but that’s a little like what John and I have done recently. And it’s been a really awesome payback.
John and I are very much creatures of habit, with things we like, things we don’t and routines. But we’ve been going out and trying new things with new friends down in Chester County, and somehow, it’s made me feel less like an outsider, and more like Chester County is home.
And it’s made us feel motivated to get back to all the goals we’ve had in the past — of practicing our instruments, and using our Rosetta Stone and getting in shape — kayaking and biking and hiking and … well, so many things. It feels amazingly good to be settled. In a place of our own. In our home.
winter sun
This one time, at band camp —
Whenever I have a thought that begins “remember that one time…” I immediately think of the immortal words from American Pie. Which usually makes me laugh, remember high school and completely forget about the original thought.
Today, John Mayer’s “Comfortable” popped on Pandora. It is my ultimate favorite John Mayer song. My roommate from my last year in college gave me a burned CD of John Mayer songs — one of which was “Comfortable”. My parents had just moved to their newest house and I played that CD the entire drive back to Penn State after a weekend at home. Which ended up taking a long time, because I got a little lost in Amish country.
And when the music begins, the mournful, nostalgic guitar — every time, to this very day — I think of driving through Amish country, the sun a cool white in the late days of winter, just on the cusp of the world coming alive again. I think of my little Honda Civic named Beau. I think of finally finding Starbucks and knowing where I was. I think of how long ago it was, before all the darkness and sadness and confusion of my twenties. I think of the poignancy of the lyrics, and that instead of truly understanding them, I merely yearned for the feeling the music evoked.
The wonderful simplicity of those lyrics — my mental images of grocery shopping and gray sweatpants, and swearing like a sailor …. I’d never known any of those things with another person the way I ached to.
Anyway, life takes us so many places, both physically and mentally. Sitting in my office in the last days of February, for just a moment I was faraway, in a time long gone. The power of music is eery and crazy like that.
here I am
I love days when I feel productive and as though I made good decisions.
Those days don’t happen all the time. And when I have one, I am very inspired to continue the trend. But inevitably, I get tired, or distracted and again make less good decisions.
Yesterday was a semi-good day — which I feel can be marked as progress. I didn’t have a green smoothie to start the day (I never — despite all intentions when I fall asleep) get up early enough to make one and also make my train. So I rely on the kindness and thoughtfulness of my hubs. Yesterday he also deserved to sleep in a little (what exactly is ‘sleeping in’ when it occurs before 6am…? Ah, I know. It’s called ‘Lucy didn’t wake up at 5.35a’). But I got a green juice at Starbucks (which was actually nearly frozen through and hadn’t defrosted by the time I left the office at 4pm). But I did buy it with the best of intentions.
I managed to drink a fair amount of water. I have a system — more like a schedule — that I try to stick to, but it has proven challenging when my days are crazy … as more of them tend to be as the business begins to grow exponentially. I try — valiently, i might add — to drink a full 32 ounces before noon, another before 2pm and then I can ride the train home without worrying about having to use the bathroom. That leaves another 20 ounces to be consumed prior to bed and I try to get that done before 7pm so I’m not up every 2 hours throughout the night. MS, folks. She’s no joke.
I did a lot of work — I usually do a lot of work, but yesterday’s was quantifiable work & I like having evidence of productivity. Then I got on the stationary bike when I got home and rode six miles — my longest workout yet. (As a sidetone, it’s only my third ride on our stationary bike). I only had two (albeit rather full) glasses of wine. And we had salmon sashimi and dumplings for dinner. Not so bad.
But … I had one of the worst night’s sleep ever. I get really bad headaches behind my left eye and last night’s was a doozy. Have you ever taken pain pills and visualized how they are going to alleviate the pain? Well, I do it a lot, because these headaches wreck me. In my fitful, painful, sweaty half-sleep, all I kept thinking about after downing the Excedrin, was how the pills were progressing through my system, to my blood, to the spot of unendurable pain in my brain. Thankfully, when John got up to head out to the Outdoorsman show with his buds, the pain seemed to have significantly lessened. But I am always so cautious after a headache. Nothing is worth doing that could trigger it to come back. It is just absolutely the most excruciating pain. And it always seems to last forever — as though I can no longer remember what it is like to not be crippled by it.
Anyway.
Right now Lucy and I are in my office while Dora cleans. The paper seems to have multiplied again and it’s so depressing. Paper on this desk, paper on my desk at work …. so much paper needing to be read, dealt with, filed. Sometimes I wistfully think back to simpler times … but then I remember that this is what I dreamed of, this house and my career. And I can’t be too frustrated.
John and I leave for Italy on Wednesday. It still feels very surreal that we are going. There were times when I thought I’d never travel again. First because of money, then because of MS. And now, a little over a year into Tysabri and six years slogging away at the restaurant … dreams are coming true left and right. I’m spoiled and I’m so grateful.
Because right now, in this moment, despite the challenges, despite the unfairness of life — right now, I am happy. And that is a great feeling.
back to earth
I’ve been mildly obnoxious lately. Floating on the high that follows the lowest of lows. When you climb from the dark and everything seems beautiful and miraculous and better than it ever seemed before. And emboldened by this new outlook, this new perspective, a swagger emerges. A completely unnecessary and ridiculous swagger. And yet – essential to getting on with life after a devastating blow.
I drove to the train station, feeling fine, happy with my newly done hair, my outfit choice for the day. Feeling motivated and organized for what is usually my busiest day of the week.
And I promptly fell in amazing glory the minute I stepped out of my car.
Not a stumble or a trip. And complete wipe out.
And I knew that God – or whatever force shapes the minutiae of our days – was not-so-subtley bringing me back to Earth. Now, as the train slogs down the track – an estimated 20 minutes late for our arrival in Center City, my butt aches, my hands burn and the only thing I can do is laugh and nod and admit that yes, I needed that.
K.K. & E
It’s absolutely bananas that it’s February already. Bananas.
To celebrate the second month of the year I met up with two of my favorite women for dinner. It served two purposes – seeing my friends but also, I dragged them to my company’s newest restaurant to check out the food. (They’ve both been but luckily, they were up for a re-visit!).
It’s funny, because we saw each other in December and so much has changed in such a short time that it feels like eons since we last were together. Life is wild like that. Seriously.
I was in a state yesterday – puffed up and frustrated and indignant.
How often we diminish ourselves – how often we roll out the red carpet for others to treat us poorly. Tonight at dinner, Kate exhibited the most confidence I’ve seen her espouse in years. Erin and I had to pick our jaws up off the floor. And then we all began to laugh and Erin and I declared with enthusiasm our love and appreciation for this new Kate. It was glorious. Because this Kate that she was finally seeing and endorsing – that’s the Kate Erin and I have always seen, always believed in.
That’s true friendship.
When we sit together and vomit our woes all over the table and complain and whine — and just enjoy and love each other so much. That’s real.
I look at my friends and am in awe of both of them. I think they are both so fabulous and funny and insightful and wonderful. That is friendship.
Anyway. I wanted to make an effort to document my gratitude and today, I am insanely grateful for these two women. I am grateful for their place in my life, for the time they share with me and for their love, support and patience. It isn’t easy to find time to nurture relationships when work, and family and partners and pets take up so much time. And I am so deeply grateful that we have found the time to keep our friendships alive.
goals
This is not a new subject.
But it’s been on mind intermittently for a while.
When we are young, we are all on an equal playing field. We all attend school (or are home schooled) and we all strive to be accepted at university. No one is getting married or having children (usually) and we all have parents who pay the bills, friends who are interested in the same extracurricular activities that we are, and a home to return to every night to sleep.
In college we are all assigned dorm rooms, and class schedules and for the first time, taste the headiness of freedom. You can go to class if you want … but there is no one telling you that you must. We begin to test boundaries, challenge the status quo. We find people who have the same values and ideals as ours — those people become our friends. Maybe we all played soccer in high school, or did the school play — but that didn’t hold the same weight in college, as you sat up late into the night discussing symbolism in Buffy the Vampire Slayer and eating macaroni & cheese at the diner at 4am. College is an amazing time of freedom without true responsibility. And none of us really appreciate it until we are gone.
It’s after college that things begin to change. Some people get married right away, some go on to further their education, some start working. Everyone begins to understand the true responsibility of supporting oneself. Most people handle it just fine. Some don’t. All our paths begin to slowly diverge. We make different choices, we pursue different dreams.
That’s almost easier said that understood.
I think I always had a clear idea of what I wanted — but I didn’t know how to achieve it. I didn’t value myself very much, or my thoughts and ideas. I allowed other people to influence me, allowed their ideals and values to overshadow mine. I craved acceptance, I craved the feeling of belonging that had eluded me most of my life. Insecurity is a very powerful thing. We allow things that we otherwise would not tolerate solely for the sense of feeling loved.
I have to admit, I love my thirties. I finally feel at ease in my own skin. I feel settled and having my own approval means I don’t seek others in the same way I did in the past. I know where I am, what I want, and have ideas on how to get there. I don’t feel the need to apologize anymore.
And in conjunction with that, I don’t look at other’s lives and their choices, and judge or condemn them. I do not envy them. Because their choices aren’t my choices, and their dreams and wishes are also not mine. If they are pursuing their dreams, and are happy in their life, then I am happy for them, but my opinion doesn’t … and shouldn’t… really matter.
But –and I think this is the thing that has been niggling in my brain — we should all respect each other’s lives and choices. We don’t have to agree with them, or understand them. We are not wearing their moccasins. But we should respect the people we choose to keep in our lives as friends. We should respect their choices, and their belongings, their space and their time. We should not impose our own ideals and life choices upon them. Or assume that how we feel is how they feel. We all face challenges, and hardships and impossible days. But to assume that our difficulties somehow outweigh another person’s is ignorant and unfair.
I go through life now with an incurable neurological disease. I have difficulty seeing sometimes, and I haven’t fully felt my feet and legs for years. Until I started my current therapy, I used a walking stick named Lydia. Outside of my own personal, physical struggles, I have family health issues — both my family and John’s family. John just underwent major surgery for his incurable genetic disease. So yes, we have hardships. And some days they break me, and some days they inspire me.
But they never define me. And I never use them as a tool to shame or humiliate others. I do not use my issues as a battle tool, a way to ‘win’ the fight for who has it hardest, who struggles and overcomes the most. That’s just — well, absurd. I also don’t seek other’s approval for how I manage everything; I don’t look for praise for living.
We all live. We all manage our chaos, and dream big dreams. We all have dark days when everything feels impossible. But I like having people in my life, who despite the darkest of dark hours, still see the beauty. People who don’t seek constant approval for doing the things we all do to survive. People who don’t value their own choices above others and use them as a measuring stick to judge.
Anyway. Stepping off my soap box now. Taking a deep breath and heading off to enjoy this beautiful day.
D5 Creation