FML: Fuck. My. Little voices.
The ones that tell me…
I’m too slow.
I’m not built like I was.
I’m too late.
I’m not as young as I was.
I’m too fat.
I’m not able to.
I’m too old.
I’m not as capable as I used to be.
I’m too weak.
I’m not worthy of this.
I’m too broken.
Fuck all the voices in my head that don’t serve me anymore - because, honestly, right now, it feels like all of them. Self-sabotage is a nasty, relentless spiral, and climbing out of it feels impossible some days. But I’ve done it before. I will do it again.
I just know this time will be harder. It’ll be messier. I might lose even more of myself along the way. But I have to keep showing up, even when it feels pointless, even when I don’t believe I can.
Because it is worth it.
I am privileged to be here. To have a body that still moves, breathes, lives. To have a life I can shape into something that serves me.
And when those voices get too loud? I remind myself that I don’t have to silence them all at once. I just have to do one thing today that moves me forward. Put my shoes on. Step outside. Go to the gym even if I half-arse it. Drink the herbal tea instead of the wine. Small, unsexy things that add up, even when I don’t feel like they will.
And when all else fails, I tell the voices to sit down, shut up, and let me get on with it.
