Over this weekend, I had some time to sit and think and reflect on the past year. Of course I had time, the one time I plan something, we get 8 inches of snow. Not that there's anything wrong with ringing in the new year in your jammies, but I do that every night, so I was really looking forward to seeing everyone. Being safe at home over being on treacherous roads wins every time, right?
I just had this overwhelming sense of excitement about what is to come for me and Shortpants. To only be responsible for his well-being and my own is pretty darned liberating. I've got projects planned and get togethers planned, lots of wine planned, and lots of doing whatever the fuck I want planned... it's going to be glorious.
Well, as glorious as the life of a single mom of a three year old can be.
It just hit me that I'd been stifling myself. Losing myself. Forgetting who I was and what I loved to do and that's just not okay, no matter how you spin it. The roles I play do not define me - I DEFINE ME. I am more than that, and I really think rediscovering this evolved version of who I used to be is going to be well worth the work.
The only permission I need is my own. How delicious is that?
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