Two years ago, I was fat and numb and unhappy. I didn't know what the hell I wanted in my life, but it had to change. It had to. Maybe I didn't even know it needed to happen, maybe I did. I don't really think I was consciously aware of how desperately there needed to be a shift in my life.
Never did I imagine the tempest that would take over my teapot. I had no way to know that I would live the most unlikely of events and come to such a different place in my journey. At the time, I didn't even know there was a journey; there was only that place and time that I was and from whence I'd come.
But here I am, two years later, more than a hundred pounds lighter than I was then, with more shoes and better hair. I'm weeks away from releasing my first novel, and I'm in the process of getting divorced.
As dramatic as the logistical changes in my life appear to be, it's the intangible ones that are truly the most remarkable.
A friend said to me a few days ago, "I know it's hard for you to believe, but you deserve more."
My gut response was, "No, I don't." But before I could even say those words, I thought, "You're right. I do, and I know it."
And here's what I've come to discover in the last two years: I deserve the chance to be happy. I deserve the good things that I feel are coming my way. I deserve the chance at contentment and peace in myself because I have earned the right to accept and own those things.
It took me a very long time to really connect with my own self-worth, to truly understand that the inherent Stephanie had value unto herself, to her friends, and to society in general. I could always see the impact my deeds and actions had on the world around me, but I didn't always feel that I was worth much of anything.
My value doesn't come from the crap I've done in the last two years. I'm not worthwhile now only because I fit a little better into society's idea of how women should look. It's not like my words suddenly matter just because I have a blog. I'm am worth more and deserve more because I am strong enough to accept more. I'm a persnickety Virgo—I've always had exacting demands and high expectations, though probably moreso of other people than of myself in recent years. Rather than becoming petulant and bitter that things don't go the way I think they should, I often find myself actively seeking the best in what I've been given, plus ways to actually achieve what I want. I'm much more proactive in living my life now than I was two years ago.
But it's also not like I don't have moments where I feel like all of that could fall apart. Things happen that make me want to crumble. My inner circle can testify to that fact that I still have days when I blow up and break down and get very, very upset about the principle and the specifics of shit that just goes wrong.
Everything that happens now, good or bad, wonderful or horrible, sacred or profane, I will experience it and feel it as fully as I can, knowing that I have earned that right. These are my moments to recognize and comprehend in the fullest way that only I know how, and I intend to live every single one of them.
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