Enough
I have a confession. I am broken and I am flawed. By the world’s standards I am lacking in so many ways and far too often I let that idea control WAY too much of my thought life. I do not have the body I had at nineteen or heck even at thirty and probably never will again. Yet I allow the world to make me feel like I am less valuable because I can’t fit into a pair of size two jeans. Oh who am I kidding, I haven’t worn a size two since I was a toddler. I see so many of my beautiful friends fighting this same battle every day as well. They feel defeated and depleted because they don’t look like the world has convinced us we should look. We run ourselves ragged trying to have it all. By today’s standards the modern woman should have a lucrative career, be a perfect mother carefully balancing between being the overly protective helicopter mom and the laid back free-range mother and that’s just to keep DHR off of your doorstep. We should be carefully nipped, injected and tucked so no one