I've been really happy lately.
It feels really good to say that.
Just in the last week, I have found myself reflecting on my feelings. I've had more than one person say to me, "You seem really happy." They are right. I am.
It feels kind of strange.
When you go through a challenging time in your life, a lot of people will empathize by saying "Cheer up" or "Things will get better" or "You need to look on the bright side." It's understandable. People look for happiness. They're drawn to it like a magnet. There have been many times in the last (almost) 3 years when I have wanted to tell the people who said these things tofuck off leave me alone. Sometimes I probably even did give them a few choice words.
I think it's ok to be sad sometimes.
It's important to acknowledge the anger. It's important to feel the pain of heartbreak. It's ok to wallow in a little self-pity for a while. It's a part of the process. Some might say that moving forward without acknowledging that sadness is counterproductive and (maybe?) unhealthy.
Things do change. Things will change. Life is about change.
2009 and 2010 delivered some really bad news. Our only daughter got sick. She died. Our business suffered. We sold it for an incredible loss. I changed jobs. I gained over 40 pounds. We were (almost) drowning in debt. Crying was a part of my daily routine. Life--unquestionably--sucked.
Life is better.
The Foundation is thriving. We are giving back to others in a way that feels good. The lessons learned from business ownership are making us better leaders in the nonprofit world.
I've lost over 20 pounds of the weight that I gained, 15 of which I've lost in the last three months. It's nice to be able to wear my old clothes again.
I have a job that I love and I'm pretty good at what I do.
I'm writing for two websites (and getting paid for it). I'm writing a book. I'm writing a book that is going to be published!
We're gaining some ground in paying off the debt. We're eating the elephant, one bite at a time.
I cry less. I still cry. I will always cry. It still hurts. I don't think it hurts less. It hurts...differently.
I move forward, acknowledging the past. As Roger likes to say, "It's ok to look back. Just don't stare." It's good to be happy.
It feels really good to say that.
Just in the last week, I have found myself reflecting on my feelings. I've had more than one person say to me, "You seem really happy." They are right. I am.
It feels kind of strange.
When you go through a challenging time in your life, a lot of people will empathize by saying "Cheer up" or "Things will get better" or "You need to look on the bright side." It's understandable. People look for happiness. They're drawn to it like a magnet. There have been many times in the last (almost) 3 years when I have wanted to tell the people who said these things to
I think it's ok to be sad sometimes.
It's important to acknowledge the anger. It's important to feel the pain of heartbreak. It's ok to wallow in a little self-pity for a while. It's a part of the process. Some might say that moving forward without acknowledging that sadness is counterproductive and (maybe?) unhealthy.
Things do change. Things will change. Life is about change.
2009 and 2010 delivered some really bad news. Our only daughter got sick. She died. Our business suffered. We sold it for an incredible loss. I changed jobs. I gained over 40 pounds. We were (almost) drowning in debt. Crying was a part of my daily routine. Life--unquestionably--sucked.
Life is better.
The Foundation is thriving. We are giving back to others in a way that feels good. The lessons learned from business ownership are making us better leaders in the nonprofit world.
I've lost over 20 pounds of the weight that I gained, 15 of which I've lost in the last three months. It's nice to be able to wear my old clothes again.
I have a job that I love and I'm pretty good at what I do.
I'm writing for two websites (and getting paid for it). I'm writing a book. I'm writing a book that is going to be published!
We're gaining some ground in paying off the debt. We're eating the elephant, one bite at a time.
I cry less. I still cry. I will always cry. It still hurts. I don't think it hurts less. It hurts...differently.
I move forward, acknowledging the past. As Roger likes to say, "It's ok to look back. Just don't stare." It's good to be happy.