Day two of me showing up or trying to show up as my authentic self. I’ve been living the life of someone else, and this someone isn’t genuine. How can any writing get down with Grammarly correcting my errors before I even finish my sentence? This other person, someone else, kind of looks like me, but she isn’t me. People know more about her than… me. It’s not their fault; how can they know? How would you know if I don’t allow it? I’m rambling, but I am talking about showing up. I put effort into my appearance at work yesterday, and it went well. After the week I had last week, I needed a “well” day. I thought, though, did my appearance have anything to do with my day? I did feel more confident. I wasn’t shaky, stressed, or overwhelmed; it was a productive, good day. I figured I should try showing up again because the real me is very stylish. The real me always shows up. The real me is confident and strong, graceful and honest. Bold and unafraid. Always willing to do what needs to be done and does it beautifully. And the real me takes her vitamins on time.
After identifying the qualities of the real me, I went to my closet and rearranged my clothes. For some reason, I have quite a bit of white pants. I’m unsure how I ended up with so many, but I needed to get black pants. As I continued, I looked at my old Navy uniforms, and I hadn’t touched those since I left in 2016. Lo and behold, two pairs of black pants tailored for me back in boot camp. These pants fit perfectly. I was amazed and surprised by how much I like them and how well they look on me. Even more so, I like that I didn’t have to shop for them—a win, win situation.
I didn’t wear those pants today, though. I need to take them to the cleaners. But, I still tried, and well. I did feel confident, and I did feel better, even when I was less than perfect. The real me knows how to stay encouraged. It’s Tuesday, and Tuesdays are those days when extra grace is needed. The other person, also known as the old me, tried to creep back up as I was driving home—depression, sadness, etc. But I didn’t want to be that other person anymore, so I said no.
Once home, I had two bowls of the Special K yogurt cluster cereal (my favorite) – it hit the spot, and the real me wrote about it.
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