Taking up yoga. Cleaning the house more often. Trying to do more with my life.
I think I’m trying to find me.
When I went home in February, I felt lost. I usually go home to relax, to enjoy my break, to recharge and reconnect. This time, most of the trip was hugely emotional. The last few days of it I finally ran away for a break. Although I did have a good time, deep inside I felt guilty for running off from my mom and actually enjoying not being the dutiful daughter I should’ve been.
When I got back to the States, we moved. Brandon and I hit a rough patch because of the stress about the move and my physical and emotional states. And I did have a major break down one night. Completely senseless.
And then, I started my “new life” with all the promises I make with myself and trying to keep them.
Keeping them is a hard part.
Like this weekend, I started to feel guilty after lounging on the couch watching Food Network for most of the morning that I attacked the rest of my chores so seriously, I even got mad at Brandon for not helping out. I felt like since I slacked this morning I must get everything done as planned and why isn’t he helping me?
I know that I should cut myself some slack. But it’s been many years of cutting myself some slacks and it seems I have just wasted away my “free time” and therefore I could never get around to anything or “have time” to do this and that.
It’s a delicate balance one have to maintain. And I guess that comes with being a grown up. I’m turning 30 this year, and I felt like I haven’t done anything worthwhile.
Although the 10 years old in me will never ever die, I will have to grow up some.
God. 30. I can’t fucking believe it…