>The moving is going along smoothly. We still have a lot to move, but most of the stuff we don’t use regularly has been moved. Pictures are being hung, the bathrooms are decorated, and it’s really starting to feel like home.
I met today’s guest through The Red Dress Club also. She’s got one of the cutest blog designs on the internet that I didn’t do myself, and she also has a beautiful way with words. Today, it is my pleasure to introduce you to the wonderfully talented Andrea, from Good Girl Gone Redneck.
Not so much when I look in the mirror. But sometimes.
Sometimes I truly have to stop and think to remember how old I actually AM.
When you hit your upper thirties it all blends together. They say the mind is one of the first things to go … I think.
Maybe it’s because I still watch my favorite soap opera, and on General Hospital, nobody ever ages.
Except the “kids,” because they have rapid soap opera aging syndrome or something!
Or maybe it’s because I totally love watching Glee, and I think I’m the same age as they are.
Although I probably AM. Maybe a little bit older, but these people are so not teenagers!
I look at my four year old daughter and I know that I had her in my early-ish-thirties. So there’s not really a way I could be the same person I was way back when.
Or else I would have had my daughter when I was ten. As if.
But she’s there. She’s under the surface. That girl. I look quickly and see that I am her and she is me.
I am that same insecure person I was. I am that same person who worries about my weight.
But at this point in my life I am tired of trying to do something about it. I have learned to accept myself for who I am.
Worries about fitting in.
Despite the unlimited support systems and friends I do have.
I am that same person who has dreams and thinks how hard they might be to reach. How far out of my grasp they are. Floating.
I will always be a girl with dreams.
But that girl? She can be here, she can resurface now and then. But she is not the same as me.
She has grown so much.
That girl. I am her and she is but a part of me.
I will always love and support her, but I need to remind her that I am here now. Me. This woman that I have become.
A woman. A mother. Someone who has experienced life.
The woman I look in the mirror and see is me.
And I’m okay with that.
Better than okay, in fact.
I am THRILLED to be ME!