I miss this space. A space without pressures, to just be me. While there feels like there is pressure to perform in my other space, to lose weight in the "right" way at the "right" pace, I feel out of step with this spot that was just a place to be me.
I want to be able to write simply because today I am feeling sad and I can't quite tell you why. Or that I am sick of the never-ending winter. Or that my son thinks "poop" is the funniest word in the English language, and sometimes in the way he uses it, he might just be right. (It is a hard-learned parent skill to keep a straight face when you really want to laugh).
I want to be vulnerable and authentically me. I want to lament that I had no one to BOGO at Caribou today, though I brought a surprise to my administrative co-worker.
I created this place because here I was me, enough just as I was. Right now that "enough" feeling is fleeting and transient. Sometimes it is there but too often I am bogged down by my perceptions of the expectations of others.
So I am throwing a few words down, and hitting publish and putting the "just me" back out there. I hope I can stay.