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I didn’t accomplish what I wanted to at work today. I didn’t even come close. I sat in my office and stared out into space or put my head down on my desk. I wanted to run out of there, get in my car, drive home, crawl into bed, curl into a little ball, and cry. I asked for help instead. It didn’t really help.

I left work a little early to get a flu shot and a haircut. I’m happy to say I no longer have the same hair as my four year old nephew. Adorable on him. Not so much on me.

I brought work home with me thinking it would be easier to do it here. By the time I got home, I couldn’t bring myself to even contemplate it much. I sat for a while. I took a long shower, something I rarely do at night. I stared at myself naked in the mirror for a time, trying to see my body as it is, not the flaws and imperfections I wish were different. I thought about starting yoga as a way to learn about my body, to connect with it, and start to care for it. Then I had some soup, watched a little tv, and got in bed around 9 PM.

I’ve had two trains of thought this evening that are still on my mind as I sit here writing this. One is how much of my junior high and high school experiences I have carried with me into adulthood. I was never the prettiest girl, the best athlete or student. I wasn’t the most popular, the coolest, or the nerdiest. I was always somewhere in the middle of it all. And I desperately wanted to stand out. I wanted to be special. I wanted to be extraordinary.

I still do. I am still trying to find a way to stand out, be singled out. I still feel uncomfortable with my place in the crowd.

The other train of thought was about how quickly I forgot where I was just a few months ago. I’ve been griping this week because I am not happy in the way I want to be. Then, as I was on the highway headed home tonight, I suddenly remembered how it was for me to sit in my apartment in my old neighborhood. I remembered how stuck I felt, and I smiled and something in me lifted. I am not there anymore. I mean that quite literally.

The truth is, there is so much growing I still want to do, and I shouldn’t discount how much I have already done. I can hold both those things. I can hold all I still want for myself without losing sight of how far I have come.