The one day I work at the restaurant, I work with Sam. It’s like one of those little jokes that life provides. I really don’t mind, which is funny in its own right. It might bother her more than me because the situation surrounding the situation was one of deceit, not just to me but also to her. She feels guilty and shameful even though I told her not to. Feelings are feelings though. I’ve only had to tell one employee to shut up, which is significantly less than I’d expected. Sometimes respect is keeping it to whisper. My family has been wonderful towards us, all three. It’s strange when your whole family is involved. Still, I impress myself endlessly. The growth is more than obvious. I am proud to be me. I have offered comfort where none was to be found. I have been a safe space for all involved. It feels good. Something about legacy. Something about how death is a perpetual opportunity and how i’d rather be seen or remembered. Warm and welcoming. Sweet. Kind. Gentle. You can’t choose how you are perceived but you can decide how you will be and that is enough.
The days are getting shorter, rapidly. The time between is shrinking along with them. In no time I’ll be new. Newer, even. The cycle of growth is mind blowing. The inertia making me dizzy some days, but with a smile on my face.
I finished writing my thank-you cards for and from the baby shower. It is a relief. I’m that kind of person- hand written thank you’s, even just for attending. It was instilled in me and I will instill it in you. Reach for meaning, always, everywhere. Let others know that you value their thoughts and continuation of such. Making the people you love feel loved is underrated in our society. Such concern with being loved that we forget the other side. I appreciate my sentimentality. I feel beautiful again. My face was swollen for a few days and I was sort of shaken. I broke 3 nails as well and that pains me beyond reason. But today I look in the mirror and stop and smile and I feel lovely inside and out. My body is beautiful. My mind is baffling. My depth is mysterious, even to me. It is a privilege to experience me in any form. That much I know is true.
I love to tell myself sweet things. I love to take care of myself. Spend time on myself. Be there for myself. The way it has shaped me into an entirely loving being is amazing. I can be there for others because I’m there for myself. Loren has been taking care of himself lately and I can’t wait to watch him grow from it. Before he cut his hair, he had such little confidence in himself and it showed. I was used to it, I didn’t even notice. It was gradual. Something about comfort within a relationship, something about letting yourself go. Physicality has always been important to me so it just never got that far on my end. But because I love him unconditionally, I didn’t see the way he was unraveling. For years and years. And the things that does to your confidence, contentment, self-love and approval. It ruins them. Slowly enough to never feel the poison until one day you don’t recognize yourself anymore. This is part of his drive to deceive me, I’m sure. I wouldn’t ask him to change for me and I don’t expect any version of him. How he looks doesn’t determine how dedicated I am. Someone else had to do that. Ignite that fire. Watching him feel excited for new soap or researching single-blade razors brings me such joy. To see him proud of how many sit ups or whatever else he’s done makes me proud too. Even in a selfish way. I’ve spent a lot of time and energy on looking nice for him, and feeling that returned is wonderful. I understand the idea of ego and how little the physical means but that sounds silly to me. I think enjoying your outside is healthy and nice. Being unsightly is nothing to be proud of. It doesn’t make one morally superior to me. Finding joy in whatever is an accomplishment, it may as well be yourself.