I Am Allowed to Enjoy This Version of Me

 

Today I feel good.

Today I feel calm.

The last three months felt like a nightmare, and I still can’t believe they are behind me.

Taking two days off was a lifesaver.

It reminded me of what I wrote recently — that sometimes one quiet weekend can make me feel a little more like myself again.

I am full of energy and ready to enjoy every minute of this life.

I started eating better again and doing my workouts — two things that are essential for me.

And it feels good.

Not forced.
Not desperate.
Not like I am trying to punish myself into becoming someone else.

Just good.

I used to wait.

I think this started around the same time I realized I had stopped recognizing myself in small ways.

Wait for my happiness, thinking:
I will be happy when I am slimmer.

Wait for my confidence:
I will feel confident when I have the perfect measurements.

Wait for capturing memories:
I will make videos and take pictures when I feel flawless.

But then I asked myself:

When are you going to live?
When are you going to enjoy your life?
When are you finally going to be good enough for everything?

I don’t want to wait to be perfect.

Perfection is a mirage.

And honestly, I believe a sincere smile and genuine happiness are sexier than having abs.

I am tired of trying to meet expectations while feeling uncomfortable in my own life.

And maybe this is also part of learning to stop always pushing through, even when my body and mind are asking for something gentler.

So today, I choose to embrace myself.

I embrace my body — the body that carried the biggest happiness of my life: my son.

I embrace the changes in me.

I embrace the woman I am right now.

This is me now.

A working mother.
A woman trying to figure out life.
A woman with goals, doubts, energy, softness, tired days, good days, and dreams.

And I want to enjoy it all.

Not only when I look different.
Not only when I feel perfect.
Not only when everything is finally in place.

Now.

In this body.
In this season.
In this version of me.

It is not my final version.

But it is real.
It is alive.
It is grateful.

And I am allowed to enjoy this version of me too.