Real Talk That Isn’t Mean

Last night I got to sit around a table with two of my favorite humans and have an evening of real talk. That real talk that you can only have with people that you trust and admire and love. That real talk that once you say the words, there is a weight lifted off of your shoulders or a pit that disappears from your stomach.

I’ve missed nights like that, and when I was driving home I realized that I had NO idea how much I needed it.

I’m so thankful to have those moments and those people in my life. So thankful that they love me, for me. No matter what. Just as I am.

Because the voices in our head…our self talk? Woof. They are so mean.

We discussed at length last night how we would post up and throw elbows at anyone who dared even speak to each other, to our daughters, our sisters, anyone the way we speak to ourselves. And we know this, right? We are smart, educated women who have some miles on our wagon, we aren’t doe-eyed girls who are looking for lessons to learn.

Know better, do better. Right?

So why is it so difficult to do better in THIS? Why is it so damned hard for me to get myself off of the downward spiral of ugly that marches in time in my head, and get it together? See? Even in that sentence, I start to get judgey and mean girl on myself.

None of us had the answer, by the way. Other than we must keep trying. Keep trying to out talk the bitches in our head and try to love and just as important, protect ourselves, the way we would love and protect each other.

Just the act of talking about it though? Ohmygosh. It was a holy thing. That is the feeling I want to carry with me all of the time.

Cheers to finding holy moments among people who love you this week.

Cheers to the effort and energy it takes to keep trying.

 

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