Now that I’m 40, I have all my shit together.
I don’t know how to explain this: it isn’t being humble, it’s being utterly convinced that I did nothing deserving of celebrating. That something going well or pushing through a hard task or even holding myself accountable for what I said I would do in a day, is just the same as what anyone else would do. Plus, look at all these ways I did it wrong, and there’s still so much on my to-do list, and I’m sure there’s someone else out there better than me.
If I had the chance to go back and tell my younger self what I know now, one thing I’d share with her, is that her relationship with her parents isn’t static. At some point, she’ll see them as humans rather than parents, with weaknesses and blind spots and opinions she will disagree with.
I think the thing that makes me feel lazy is my tendency to focus on all I didn’t get done in a day, rather than what I did get done in a day. So of course, there’s a reason to feel guilty over taking a break instead of wanting to DO something, which just paralyzes me instead of motivates me.
Words matter, and definitions matter. We cannot fix something we cannot call by its proper name. By shrinking away from the word racism, as a collection of engrained behaviors and actions that are much more subtle than the KKK, we cannot name things what they are.
It takes entitlement to think, “You’re dumb,” is a valid argument.
Discipline is not synonymous with will power. Rather, discipline is a combination of passion and logistics.
What does it mean to feel fulfilled? It’s more than just filling up the time.
Knowing my guilt is relational—that is, that it happens in the context of people and relationships and the judgment I perceive them having of me—has been a blessing and a curse (as are most adulthood, therapy-induced revelations).
Detaching the wedding from the marriage was a key turning point for me.