As for the body that was supposed to be goals, let’s just say no. I had it several years ago. Then life started lifing. Hard. Now, as you can see, I need to lose more than a few pounds. I often imagine you giving me the side-eye and asking, “What happened?”
The whole “looking flawless every day” thing hasn’t been happening either. Between motherhood, family responsibilities, lack of funds, exhaustion, and, honestly, sometimes laziness, keeping up with everything isn’t always doable. More often than not, I’m dressed down. And, as you’ve made me well aware, my appearance definitely isn’t always on point. In your words, I “fell off.”
Same for stress-free living. Whereas you’re over there juggling it all seamlessly in my vision of you, real life came through and knocked the balls out of my hands. I don’t get enough sleep some nights. My family has fast food more often than I like. I can’t remember the last time I went on a real vacation. And sometimes, you would think stress was my middle name.
Throughout it all, you’ve been there, judging and reminding me of all the ways I’ve come up short. When I take on a project more for passion than pay, you chime in with “hustling backward.” Every time I passed that still half-read book on my nightstand, I thought about how you would’ve made the time for a juicy read. Your face (and that disappointed head shake) pops up anytime I skip a workout or say I don’t feel like cooking.
Somewhere along the way, though, something changed. I stopped looking at you as the ideal. When it happened? I’m not really sure. I just know that as I’ve gotten older (or maybe just tired), I stopped auditioning for your approval. You’re still riding with me, just no longer at the wheel or backseat driving.
I spent way too much time beating myself up for not living up to that picture-perfect image I had in my head. But now I’m okay. I didn’t fail us. It’s just my expectations were unrealistic. I let celebrities, society, you and myself convince me that living a good life meant having it all together and reaching an impossible goal: perfection.
Not becoming you made room for someone different. Honestly, even with the flaws, stumbles and hard times, I like this version better. Before, I measured my self-worth by appearance, achievements and trying to be her. Now it’s more about inner peace, joy and being my authentic self.
My view on finances has also changed. I’m not in the super-high tax bracket I planned for, but I have trade-offs that are worth more than money. I was able to work from home and be there for my son throughout his entire childhood. I can come and go as I please. And I’m doing work that feels meaningful to me. Writing allows me to help educate, heal and entertain others, all while doing the same for myself. It’s my way of doing some good for the world.
