I realize that I am tired. Not the end-of-the-day tired, although that too. I no longer feel ready to engage, read every article, pick every battle, voice every opinion. On the bright side, my FOMO is finally getting better. I’m ok with letting things go, because they never belonged to me in the first place. I’m ok with not being in the spotlight, but also I am learning to insist I be given credit when I deserve it. I’m ok with the fact that slowing down means I can’t have it all and the thought that I will never have it all is so liberating.
I was raised to be an overachiever, to work ten times more, to shoot for the stars. I always thought it was a good thing. And maybe it is, but sometimes good things destroy us. When I try to visualize this belief in doing more, being more, always fighting for something, I see a nstive weed with roots so deep, it will take tremendous force to pull them out.
Small Rebellions 