recurrence.

I’m reminded how much of a tightrope I live in managing my physical and psychological well being. I discussed this with my therapist the other day and it was validating to hear that it is okay to be a little bit more high maintenance than others are when it comes to ensuring that I am able to live within the margins of my life that doesn’t breech into the notion of overexertion or overextension. It will always be harder for me to manage the day to day while ensuring I keep my psychological safety. Perhaps that is the full acknowledgment that I live with an invisible disability and that it will always be something I find myself fighting through my spaces.

At the same time I am reminded that I am far less alone than I imagine myself to be, and that are others like me trying to extend grace to ourselves whenever we fall short of the expectations we carry for ourselves. I have given myself permission again to be a little bit more vulnerable and a little bit more tender with my tribe and community in a way that I have not allowed myself to in the past and I am fighting the natural instinct within me that feels as if this is the worst thing I could do. I pray and hope that I will be pleasantly surprised with the story and line that I am learning to tell myself, though the fear of an eventual reckoning never truly goes away. 

I do not walk my seasons with the same naiveté that a younger version of myself would walk, nor I necessarily indulge myself in the what if’s and maybe’s that typically I would give as a benefit of the doubt, that perhaps I would advise others to, because perhaps as with age, one’s capacity for patience diminishes. Even so I hold out hope in Him who gives me much courage to endure, and that the plans for me, if I am faithful to the cause, and committed - will bring out much eventual joy, perhaps more than I could ever imagine.