The Truth Hurts
In a beautifully awful kind of way, it hurts. Rather like childbirth. The truth is painful, but it gives way to a new path, a new direction. Truth: I have not been caring for myself as I should. Truth: I am fairly certain I have had the flu. Truth: It is taking forever to go away. Truth: I am obese. These four truths, along with a few others which can't find words, have given birth to a new path for this tired mama. I need to be more intentional. It's not a new thing for me. I throw myself on the altar of motherhood, thinking that I'm doing the right thing, and in the end, it never works out. I am a hollow shell, going through the motions doing all the "right" things, but feeling empty inside. I say "yes" to every single whim of all five of my family members, thinking that it's what a good wife and mother is supposed to do, without stopping to consider that every "yes" has a corresponding "no". If I'm saying "