Why do we spend so many hours comparing ourselves?
She has a bigger house than I do.
She has better hair than I do.
She has nicer clothes than I do.
She has a flatter stomach than I do.
However, if I’m going to share total honesty in this post, the truth I find when I dive down deep to my core, there still lives shame; one last standard in which I compare myself to other women.
If you’ve been a reader of this blog, you know my once pages long to-do list came to a screeching halt when I was 24 years old. In the fall of that year, I suffered a stroke. There were no more lists to complete, no more events to handle, no more errands to run. Doctors appointments and the TV Guide dictated my agenda.
Which leads to irritability.
Which leads to stress.
Which leads to depression.
Which leads to kids needing a mama and husband needing a wife, but the only one around to fill that role is in bed with the covers pulled over her head.
the unreal expectations,
imagine how much easier it will be to appreciate the beauty in our “messy-beautiful”.
This essay and I are part of the Messy, Beautiful Warrior Project — To learn more and join us, CLICK HERE! And to learn about the New York Times Bestselling Memoir Carry On Warrior: The Power of Embracing Your Messy, Beautiful Life, just released in paperback, CLICK HERE!