Something you hate about yourself
I have a hard time acknowledging that what I do, what I am, is enough.
I ran a six hour marathon last fall. Let that sink in: I went for a SIX HOUR run. I ran through the pain (and oh, there was pain) and by the end of it, I was crying from the exhaustion and pain. Time has passed, the the most prominent memory is now that I didn’t run fast enough. I have to do it again, because I have to do better.
Sometimes I feel like I’m a cop-out. I’m not a stay-at-home mom, but I have insanely more freedom than a working mom. Instead of acknowledging that, yeah, balancing home and school can be hard and I get tired and stressed out, I feel like I shouldn’t be so tired.
I know a woman who has two young kids, works part time (evening shifts so the kids don’t have to go to daycare), runs half marathons, and is planning on training for a marathon. She’s faster and stronger than me. She is competitive and not overly emotional (un-like yours truly). She has ripped arms and she seems to have her life in perfect order. And she was back into her pre-pregnancy clothes (both times!) at, get this, three months. Oh yeah, and she breastfeeds and homebirths etc etc et-fucking-cetera. Every time I talk to her (or creep her on FB), I feel…. inferior. Jealous.
Sometimes it feels like because I’ll never have a title, or even most likely a traditional career, I don’t hold as much weight, like a paycheck or job description brings validation somehow.
(Well!! This was a downer. Good news is that tomorrow wil be much more positive.)