It’s been a score plus five years of livin' and I’ve had millions of moments – good, stupid, timid,
indecisive, beautiful. But I’m not frownin’ at me. I’m not even goin' to chide or
criticize me. Turns out I kinda like what I see; the woman I’m becoming.
Sittin' in
front of the mirror earlier today, I took the time to really look at myself and
take it all in. It’s rarely ever my first instinct to do this, so it was
incredible to see the things that I saw. There are lines around my eyes – a
combo of the effects of agin' and the crinkles of someone who loves to laugh a
lot.
I grabbed as much flesh as I could around my belly and was greatly terrified at the thought that some humans
will miraculously grow in there someday, funny how childbearin' still gives me
the jitters at this age.
I couldn’t see my heart, of course, but I was awed at
how strong enough it has been to carry me this far down life’s road.
Somehow, my thoughts drift down memory lane and I am all the more amazed at me, how I have grown. Sometimes, progress feels so slow you can't even see the forward motion. Lookin' back, I am thankful for how much my life has progressed; even though it sometimes feels like a stalemate.
I am profoundly grateful for slow growth, but a sweet and purposeful way of living, and thankful for how that affects me. I've fought to untangle myself from long-held patterns of people pleasing, major anxiety, chronic worryin' and measurin' my worth by the opinion of others. I'm not there yet, but it's been worth it a thousand percent.
Today, I looked
at myself and felt more tenderly towards me than I usually do. I realize that I
need to love this woman better, be kind to her - myself, just a little bit more
each day and celebrate who I'm becomin' and how much I bloom.
