I really have the audacity to think I should have it together.
I really think my white walls should be without chipped paint and my kitchen should be like Joanna Gaines,’ and sometimes I have the nerve to believe that I should take up less space and only then can I wear what I please.
And then I often think these crazy things, like how I should get up earlier and be the poster child for productivity like I’m some kind of machine.
I really have the audacity to think I should be better.
And that “better” should be measured by some unrealistic standard.
As if my soul and my brain have to be carried by a body without imperfections, housed in a modern ranch-style home with an immaculate space for entertaining.
Who makes up these rules, anyway?
And I think every year—in January—the rules feel a little more suffocating.
That “clean slate” that the new year promises seems more like the start of a brand new race, equipped with its own checklists and deadlines added to SURVIVAL and our other full-time jobs.
I hope you know it’s okay to do less.
I hope you know that you weren’t meant to spend every day at full capacity and that your life’s purpose will never be to “rise and grind” until you’re the best at everything.
And more than anything, I hope you know that you don’t have to have it all together today.