For so long I have cared about what others think of me or would think of me if I did this or that.

Don’t we all?

The problem is not what other people think or don’t think ( that’s none of my business right?) the problem has been what I’ve been sitting around thinking of myself.

The truth is, I’ve been an imposter. Waiting around for a moment?
You know, that moment in time when I lose all this weight, get a full make over that leaves me breathtakingly gorgeous and full of self confidence. My wisdom and vitality contagious. My life would begin then.
I would be valuable to others then.
I’d have something real to offer then…

Well. Then hasn’t happened yet. With every month and year that passes I have loathed and hated and scowled and hissed at myself. I have marinated in what I am not. I have not loved my self. I even admit to giving up. Actually crossing over that threshold of “I don’t care anymore.”

You always hear,” you can’t love anyone until you love yourself.”

Boo. It’s so true. I didn’t even really know what the hell that meant. But I really started to chew on it and wonder.
Love myself?
Well I guess thats where my adventure begins.

Well this is it. My moment. In the here and now, just as I am.
Gotta grab it by the balls and get real.
What if I only have 62 days left to live. This is the realization that I’ve had. If I died what will I have been living for? Other peoples ideals for my life?

So who the heck am I anyway?

I am a creation of a magnificent Creator.
Carefully and wonderfully made. Saved by grace from the destruction of myself. Trying to live this life joyously!
I am 30 year old cells and blood and bones and tendons, muscles and fat. I am fair, freckled skin and red, wild hair. I am hazel eyes and and a loud laugh! I am hooded sweatshirts and sneakers. I am fun and loving and loyal.

I am a daughter.

I am a sister, keeper of secrets and inside jokes. I am a front row seat at concerts preformed in parked cars in my driveway.

I am a wife. A lover. A help mate. A trusted best friend. A partner. I am devoted. I am greatful.

I am a mother. A molder and shaper.
I am a nuturer, a maker of waffles and dinner, paper airplanes and clean clothes. I am the mender of owies and hurt feelings. A teacher intentionally and not. I am carefully trying to navigate them to safety.

I am a pal. In this sisterhood we have as women. I am a heart linked with yours. I am pulling for you, praying for you. Rooting for you! I am proud of you and at times jealous of you. But I am in this with you.

I am a writer.

I am a woman.