There are more days than I wish to count that I hear that word coming somewhere from the darkest corners of my mind. And for the record, it’s not telling me to go for a jog. No, this is a word that comes from a place of fear…uncertainty…drama.
I hear it when I am arguing with my toddler over, well, everything.
I hear it when I get thrown up on by a child…again.
I hear it when I see something online that makes my heart ache.
I hear it when I attempt to dream up the vision I have for mothers through my business.
I hear it when I lay my head down at night and think about all the things I could have done better.
Sometimes I wish it was a word that just compelled me to take a lap around the neighborhood. But alas.
We all have a word. A word that we hear in the darkest moments of our days. Or maybe it’s in some of those gray moments. The ones where you feel indifference. But you have one. Do you hear it yet?
In this moment, though, I am owning that word and consciously giving it no credence in my world. I know that there will be more than enough days in this life where I will feel inadequate, under-appreciated, like I’m fighting an uphill battle, and ill-equipped. Most of those days I will also want to plow through a whole box of Oreos while hiding in the bathroom.
Run doesn’t announce itself in those moment. It announces itself when I just want to give up. Throw in the towel. Burn the books. It’s when my fight-or-flight instincts are off-balance and I’ve been sent into a tailspin by the little things that are now growing like a tiny army.
I give myself permission to back up and reassess, but not to run. Not to take off in a sprint away from the things that matter…the things like my kids, my husband, my friends, myself. I am taking a proverbial stand and changing the narrative that has managed to invoke fear for far too long. Changing the narrative to one of hope and courage instead of criticism and failure.
I will not be owned.
I will not run.