It's noon on a Sunday and I'm sitting in front of my porch as the sun warms my leg. Wearing my favorite sweatshirt I picked up from a thrift store, and I feel good. Sipping an iced coffee, listening to Brandi Carlile's new album with my hair in the same messy bun it's been in since Friday morning. And I feel strong.
Yesterday I worked out my chest and triceps and then spent the day with my dad and his girlfriend. Gratitude filled my heart, I have the freedom to hang out and belly laugh with people who get me, support me, love me and I felt Jesus. I appreciate tough seasons in moments of pure joy, not for any one reason but because I made it out the other side. Bruised and a little beaten up but I made it.
Kansas City has been warm and sunny; man oh man did I miss the sun on my face. I had Lamars donuts for breakfast without any trace of guilt because #treatyoself. My muscles are sore and I thank my body for being good to me. I've come to the realization that I love my body just the way she is but I want to be better, faster, stronger (kanye, anyone?).
I should really clean my kitchen from the bucatini diablo I made Wednesday but that's the glory of living alone. All of a sudden I feel the need to savor my singleness because it won't last forever. I enjoy being silent and in my own company.
Acne scars are fading and I'm loving minimal, glowy, bronzed makeup.
Life is happening and it's terrifying and satisfying all at the same time.
*photo original to Sophisticated Bliss
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