It’s very therapeutic to write. Especially to write a letter to oneself. And to read it 1, 2, or 6 1/2 years later is so eye-opening. I recently found this draft of a blog post unfinished. I think I started it in October of 2012 it said:
“I just recently reread a post I wrote to myself last year called, “Crystal, Don’t Read Until July 19th 2012. Anyone Else: Go for it” It was both sweet and depressing.
The depressing part is that I haven’t met ANY of my goals that were on my little list. I am not pregnant (maybe later) am still obese (workin’ on it…still…) and I have not run a marathon (but I AM running one in November!).”
That’s as far as I got. I must have begun some serious self-reflection if reading the letter prompted me to write a blog post about it. But it was also probably so depressing that I couldn’t finish. 6 1/2 years later I read it again and boy, things have changed. I finally met two of the goals I had (running a marathon and having another baby), my older kids are in 10th, 8th, 3rd, and 2nd grades now and it’s neat to see the progress I’ve made the perspective I have now, and the encouraging words I wrote to myself in the past. But one major one has only gotten more difficult: my weight. It’s a struggle that I have tackled anew since having the baby and I am trying to approach it differently.
I feel like I’m finally ready to admit how difficult it is for me and that I need to work at it. I used to resent the idea that other people were seemingly being able to eat whatever they wanted and still be thin, and I was kind of in denial that it was my own fault i wasn’t. But I’ve realized that most people work at it. Most people work at most everything. and most people, have to deprive themselves a little. In fact, most of life is about work, deprivation, sacrifice, and pain. If it wasn’t, we wouldn’t enjoy the easy/fun stuff so much. The point of life is not to do whatever we want, whenever we want, constantly seeking endless entertainment, immediate gratification and total freedom from pain. People who obsess over that are not very happy or pleasant to be around, and rarely get anywhere. (like toddlers) I have to accept that life is work. And that’s OK! strangely this realization actually lifts a burden off my shoulders! I shouldn’t pity myself for having to put forth effort and for struggling with my weaknesses because THAT’S EVERYONE’S NORMAL. It’s a part of life. I’m not better or worse than any normal person. We just are. But what makes me not lose hope at that realization is that we have a secret weapon.
“I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.”
But that’s a whole other blog post.