For once my blog isn't going to be about me as a parent, my fitness achievements/setbacks or my worries.
It's about acceptance.
A few months ago, I was having lots of concerns and worries about being loved and appreciated. I felt taken for granted. And then suddenly over the weekend, I kind of just stopped worrying about it. Instead, I drew in a deep breath. Told myself I had no control over that hot mess, exhaled and moved on.
There are so many things in my life I think I ought to do. Things I need to do. Things I want to do well. Finally at 34, I'm starting to understand how to pace myself. How not to take so many things personally. How I can focus on necessity versus optional.
I'm not sure what took so long to get here, or how long this state of contentment will last. But I'm starting to realize that I'm coming into my own about a lot of things. I know who I am. I know what's mine. I know what's important and that, ultimately, the only person I can control and improve is me.
Internal and external issues be damned.
I'm no rock star. I know.
But in this moment, I'm patting myself on the back, and moving forward.