Photo of Cyrah by Josh Stringer. Photo of Whitney by Roadside Attractions via IMDB.

Affirmation: "I release my expectations."
​
In the summer of 2018, I took a trip to LA. A mentor of mine invited me to a small showcase for some agents and managers because we both believed I might be ready for a bigger market. Earlier in the year, I'd auditioned for a manager, and it looked promising, so I jumped at the chance to be seen again. That trip shifted my life.

Before the meeting, I sat outside of the massive building where the agency was located. I sent up a prayer, feeling like I needed to nail my audition. The response I got from God: "This isn't it." I really wanted what I heard in my spirit to be a fluke, so I just kept on moving like I didn't hear it. I walked into the building with my head held high and started my audition rituals while I waited. I walked into the room, hoping that the voice I heard earlier would change His mind. I performed, but there was no magic. 

I don't claim to be the best actor in the world, but when I am telling the stories I'm supposed to tell, magic happens. When I'm where I'm supposed to be, magic happens. My performance in that room was satisfactory, but there was no magic. You couldn't tell by looking at me, but I left LA devastated.

A depression set in, and it stuck around for about a month before I decided to see a therapist. This wasn't the first time I'd been depressed. It was just the first time I felt ashamed of being so devastated. It was also the first time I got fed up and sought professional help.

With that decision, I turned the page and started a new chapter of my life called self-discovery. I didn't know it at the time, but that's what happened. An audition rejection turned into a fascinating process of learning who I was, who God was, what I wanted, how to take care of myself. I started blogging a month after my first therapy session to document my journey, and it's been a mind-blowing experience.

A year later, I signed with one of the reps that were in the room on that fateful day, and two years later, I'm still on the journey.

The last few weeks I have been practicing releasing control of my life. It's one of the things I actively wrestled with God about for a year. I would let go of one area of my life while clinging to another. Or... I would let go of something that was bothering me and then pick it right back up again, not really understanding how to trust. At the beginning of 2021, I finally surrendered fully. I want to say it was because I'm super spiritual. It's not. I just got tired. Trying to control things you can't and shouldn't control is exhausting.

I let go and started enjoying my imperfect life.

This brings me to today's experience.
Last fall I auditioned for the role of Whitney Houston in the upcoming biopic about her life. I was thrilled because this was my dream role. To be honest, I thought the whole thing was a no-brainer. I look like her. Dramatic roles are my wheelhouse. I'm sure every other woman in my acting category felt the same way: THIS IS MY COME UP. I laugh about it now. To assume that any opportunity is yours is really just entitlement. But I still assumed. 

I auditioned. It was fine, but there was no magic. I felt the lack of magic while I was auditioning and after the fact. I was confused about it. Prayed about it and through it, and over time I had to let it go. So, I did. I wasn't sure if the project fell through or if I wasn't the one, but I noticed the silence and moved on.

This morning I thought about Whitney and looked her up. I learned that the role was cast.

In the past, I would have pretended that it didn't bother me. I didn't pretend. I let myself be affected.
This was something that I thought I wanted. 
I let myself feel.
I shed a tear.
I watched my thoughts go by.
Then as quickly as the disappointment came,
it left.

I am not kidding. That's exactly how it happened.

I was fine!

I have to take a moment to celebrate how monumental that is for me. Two years ago, it took me months to process agent/manager rejection. This morning, I learned that someone else was hired for my dream role, and I processed that thing in MINUTES. I wasn't pretending to be okay. I was actually okay. 

That's the value of the work I've been doing. That's the value of taking a journey with God that I didn't even know I needed. That's the value of seeking help when I felt embarrassed. That's the value! I don't have to get stuck in my expectations. I don't have to fall apart when I don't get my way. I can feel and move on. I feel LIBERATED.

Where do I go from here? I keep releasing and moving forward. I keep creating and letting go. Remember, a year after that meeting in LA, I ended up signing with a manager that was in the room on that not-so-magical day. So, the truth is, everything that is mine finds me at the right time. I don't have to strain. I don't have to force. It finds me. I just have to be in the right place when it does.

For now, I release my expectations and just flow. 

~Cyrah

​Affirmation: I keep my channel open.
​
So far, the greatest gift I've received this decade is learning how to keep my channel open to the Divine. The last year or so has been full of ups and downs, twists and turns. Not all of them have been bad, but I spent most of the year wrestling with the idea of letting go.

If you've followed my blog for any amount of time, you will see that it's a constant theme. That's because it's been such a constant conversation between me and God. When I got sick back in 2019, so much of it was about my stress levels and my ability to relax. God and I were in a constant state of tension over it because I wanted to figure out a solution immediately, and I wasn't getting what I wanted. He wanted me to just let go and trust. I wanted to control it and heal. Answers were coming, but I had a hard time seeing them or processing them because I was holding on way too tightly to the whole thing.

But here's the magic of last year... I also saw my family move through four months without work and come out with more than enough. I also received a whole business when I wasn't even checking for it, and my relationship continues to blossom. What did these three things have in common in my life? I was COMPLETELY unattached to their outcomes. It sounds crazy, but it's true. As obsessive as I can get about some things, there are other things I could completely care less about, and I am ALWAYS winning in those areas.

Let's take money for example. I stopped caring about money YEARS ago. I'm not kidding. I know that on some level we need it to survive, I guess. But something interesting happened to me when I launched out on my own ten-ish years ago. I started working for a company that paid me very little, like almost nothing. But I worked there because I felt like that's where I was supposed to be at the time. I reasoned that if God wanted me there, He would have to figure out a way to get me there and back (my car wasn't working at the time), and He would have to make sure my living expenses were covered. I completely let go. I budgeted the little money I did earn, took public transportation back and forth to work and rented a room. I left the rest up to Him. I figured, if I ended up on the street after doing what God wanted me to do, then He was the one that was going to look crazy, not me. I kid you not: I didn't miss a day of work. I always ate. Rent always got paid. And my pay check dates and due dates did not always line up. I had ZERO stress, even when circumstances changed on me. Fun fact: One time I was given just a few days to find another place to live, while I was pulling twelve hour shifts. I pivoted without complaint and got another place in record time.

I haven't "struggled" like that in a minute, but if I'm being honest, I wasn't struggling then. I wasn't holding on too tightly to that experience at all. The circumstance wasn't ideal. It lasted about two years, but I moved through it without strain. That season of my life taught me how to NEVER be without. Not worrying about it and doing what I believe I'm supposed to be doing has been the key to keeping that channel open. Even now, my husband and I both work in the entertainment industry. We're both freelancers. My friends with really stable jobs ask me how I'm okay with not knowing when either of us will work. I shrug and say, "God takes care of us." And He does each and every time.

Last year, I did the same thing with my career. Babay! Let me tell you... That's one area of my life I've been holding very tightly, and it just wasn't working. If I'm being honest, I don't think I even had a spiritual epiphany with that one. I just got tired of struggling with it. I let it go. I still auditioned, etc. But I let go of all outcomes and just flowed. The second I let go, ideas started pouring in. It was almost like, I was tuned into a radio station I didn't know existed and I just needed to write it all down before I forgot. It's crazy. It's not like I'm some mad scientist, sitting around and thinking up the next thing I'm going to do. It's the complete opposite. I can be taking a shower when a scene will just come to me or an idea. I literally have to try to hold the information just long enough to finish my shower and get to my computer. I whole company came out of me that way. Wow... This one is relatively new to me, so I'm still reeling from how ideas kind of overtake me. My job is to simply capture them and release them into the world. My work also feels deeply satisfying now, a feeling I haven't felt in my career in a long time. Okay, God. I see you.

My love life is the quintessential example of letting go. First of all, I met my husband when I wasn't even checking for somebody. Seriously, we laugh about it now. Neither of us was really actively looking. I'm pretty sure I was just figuring out that my crush at the time (another guy) wasn't the right move. The love of my life came when I wasn't looking. I wasn't forcing it. It's like he just dropped into my orbit. Our love is still that easy. We like each other. We laugh all the time. We talk about everything. We aren't perfect, but our love is a gift that makes my life richer. You would think I would be doing all I can to hold on tight to my good man. I'm not. lol. I can't tell you how little I'm trying to control our situation. I've literally told him to his face and some of his family members (haha) that he is always free to leave. I'm not holding him hostage. I'm in my relationship because I want to be. I only want him here if he wants to be here. The minute that it changes, he's free to go! I mean it. I'm not interested in being in something I have to control like that. For all that, I might as well be alone: less stress.

I say all this to say, that I realize each department of my life is like a channel. If I want to stay open to the good that's trying to get to me, I have to be open. That means, releasing expectations, being okay with not knowing, and moving when I feel compelled to move. Fear, worry, and control only get in the way and block the channel trying to get good to me. I'm not perfect, but I'm soooo happy to be in a space where I am finally keeping my health channel open. I look forward to sharing all the good that comes through it.  

Affirmation: "Suffering makes me stronger."

On Christmas Eve, I was sitting in an Urgent Care waiting room, trying not to cry. I couldn't move my neck without feeling pressure in my head. On top of that, I kept feeling like I was disoriented. I just wanted relief.


Twenty minutes later, I learned that I had vertigo.

Three days later, I learned that a root issue was weak muscles in the neck.

I had to start rebuilding that part of my body.

First of all, I am seriously abbreviating this story because we don't have the time. But I will say that it was a journey of learning how to "allow" (sounds familiar?) the process to unfold, pray for answers, and quietly listen to my spirit to know how to move. Answers came little by little until I had an actionable plan to move forward. I am thankful.

The biggest lesson I got out of this adventure is learning how to SUFFER. Americans and people of faith have a hard time with that word. For a long time, I had a hard time with that word. The second we feel an uncomfortable experience, we are looking for the exit sign. But, what I've learned through this particular experience is that pain is not a bad thing. Pain tells us something. Without pain, we don't know when our bodies are sick. Without pain, we don't know that our souls are broken. We need all sensations to know how we are really doing. You may be able to fool the outside world, but you can't lie to pain. It's honest. It's necessary. And NOBODY wants it.

As a matter of fact, I set up my entire life to avoid suffering. I had one painful experience in high school that made me tighten up and start protecting myself. I did it for years. Living open but not really. Free but not really. Creative but only where I felt safe. I said I trusted God, but I didn't. It was a small and suffocating experience.

I decided to move through this particular experience differently. I wouldn't avoid the pain. I would simply move through it. I wasn't trying to end the pain anymore. I was determined to HEAL. Actually, heal. So, my game plan was to cry every time I felt like crying, do my physical training exercises, start reintroducing my routine to my system little by little, do some soul healing work (that's a whole other post), and let myself be uncomfortable. Yes, I gave myself breaks when necessary. I wasn't trying to stress myself out. But I was trying to work on the parts of my system that needed strengthening. To do that, I had to intentionally make myself uncomfortable to retrain my system. It's been a wild experience.

I've made more progress with this particular healing than any other experience, and ironically, I'm recovering faster.

Here's what I now know:
1. There is suffering that comes because of our bad choices, and we should take responsibility for that. But there is a suffering that happens just because life sucks sometimes. We can't avoid it. The sooner we make peace with that truth, the sooner we can learn from the experiences that hurt.
2. I have to LISTEN to my feelings. Emotions are there for a reason. They are there to tell me what's right or wrong. I now sit with them. Express them. Listen to what they are trying to say. That's how I get to know what's really going on in my heart. I now journal with tears streaming down my face, unapologetically. 
3. I can keep living my life as I heal from what ails me. I don't always have to make a hard stop.
4. Suffering has an expiration date. No hard time lasts forever. Correction, no acknowledged hard time lasts forever. If I keep pretending to be okay when I'm not, that's when I get stuck in it. Suffering isn't a dirty word. Suppression is. And I'm not the one to determine the expiration date. It ends when it ends. I'm simply focused on the process of healing and let God figure the rest out.
5. Suffering makes me stronger. I've ALWAYS come out of hard experiences okay. If I'm being honest, I become a whole BEAST after making it out of a hard time. It took me a long time to notice the pattern, but now that I know it, I can use it to my advantage.

I don't avoid experiences anymore. I am open to the journey God has for me without resistance. I choose to move through each experience like water and come out on the other side STRONGER.

Affirmation: "I express the fullest version of myself."


I had a dream the other night that made me have to side-eye myself. 


So, in my dream, my manager pitched me for the role of Celie in The Color Purple. Now, if you've ever seen the film, that makes complete sense. If we're talking about a remake of the movie, it's a fantastic role. But... my manager didn't pitch me for the role of Celie in the film, she was pitching me for the musical. You would think I would have been excited about it, but that is NOT how it went down in my dream.

In the dream, I found myself in the middle of rehearsal, trying to figure out how in the world I got there. Out of nowhere, I overheard that I was replacing a PHENOMENAL singer, and everyone just went back about their business of rehearsing the show. So, I was magically dropped into this amazing opportunity but only felt confused.

Why would my manager pitch me for the role of Celie???? Don't get me wrong. I can sing. I'm decent. I would even call myself a singer. Okay, I'm a singer, but I'm a closeted singer. I don't tell folks that I can sing. There's a whole story behind it, but for now, we're just going to talk about this dream. As a singer, I could totally be in the ensemble, but Celie?!?! You can't hide playing Celie.

I sing, but the artist I was replacing in the dream SANGS. I mean it. She has all the runs, all the power, all the control. I've seen her take a role like Celie and make magic with it. One of her performances brought me to tears. Like, literal, changed-my-life tears. And they wanted me to replace her?!

So, in the dream, I spent the rest of the rehearsal trying to tame everyone's expectations. Over and over again I tried to tell everyone in the room not to expect much. I'd say, "Listen, I'm good, but I'm not HER." Then, I'd rub my head and try to figure out how to get out of the mess I was in. Meanwhile, there was a little voice in the back of my head saying, "You know, you can do this your way." I didn't pay that voice any mind. I just kept trying to shrink myself right out of the opportunity.

Then I woke up. My mind was blown.

That dream felt bizarre but completely familiar. I prayed and asked God if that's something that I do. The answer was a resounding YES.

First of all, in the dream, I never acknowledged what a complete honor the opportunity was. It didn't feel like an opportunity. It felt like I was being set up to fail. But the truth of the matter is that it was an opportunity. A beautiful opportunity. A beautiful, life-changing, amazing opportunity if I succeeded. I just didn't see it that way. It was too risky for my blood.

I've put myself in my safe little box. I am an actor. I can sing. I can dance. I can write. But I'm a beastly actor. I lean into it so hard that I hide all the others. It feels safe. Nevermind the fact that I love music. Nope. I only publicly do things that make me feel safe.

Not good.

When I woke up and how my come to Jesus moment, I realized how I self-sabotage. When I feel challenged, I shrink myself. That's right. I hide behind someone else or disappear altogether. I try to make myself small until I feel like I'm safe from failure and ridicule. Then, when I'm building and working, I'm mad because of how small my life and opportunities feel. But the crazy part is that they're small because I made them that way! Again, mind blown. I had no idea.

In my dream, the way I should have played it was:

• Thank the decision-makers for the opportunity
• Figure out how to approach the role in a way that leaned on my strengths
• Get with a vocal coach to help me make up the difference where I needed it
• Enjoy the FREAKIN JOURNEY

So, now that I've learned this crucial information about myself. It's GAME ON.

I'm going to work on the places that I feel deficient but forge ahead with big opportunities despite feeling scared. 

"I express the fullest version of myself."

​Affirmation: "I allow myself to heal."

For the last month, I've been healing from a neck strain. I'm not 100% sure where it started, but I learned the hard way that my pillow and bed were making it worse. For weeks, I couldn't sit down because the pressure in my head was so intense. I would either have to lay down or stand. I even planned a whole date night around activities that could be done standing up. I kept moving forward, but every now and then, I would just break down and cry OR I started having weird symptoms that had nothing to do with what was actually happening. 

The word that kept coming to me during that time was: allow.

It was very uncomfortable, but I kept it pushing. I worked around the injury and tried not to let it get me down. Tuesday morning it all came to a head when I woke up feeling panicked. The weird symptoms came back again. Where in the world was this coming from? After working through it: quiet time with God, meditation, exercise, and just some general self-care I realized that I'd been having mild panic attacks sporadically for the last two weeks. That's what those weird symptoms were.

I googled "allow" and found the following definitions (Oxford Languages):
1. give (someone) permission to do something.
2. give the necessary time or opportunity for.

Wow. 

I scheduled an impromptu session with my therapist for the next day.

What I've learned is that I was feeling like I should be over this by now. I should be stronger. I was tired of feeling weak. I wasn't allowing myself to heal. I was so focused on "getting on with it" that I kept ignoring my body and soul. They wanted to take it slow and be nourished, but I just wanted to get back to normal. That was the source of the conflict.

Allow.

I let my body and soul win. For the last two days, I've been "allowing." I've taken the deadline off my healing process. If I feel like crying, I cry. If I feel like eating, I eat. If I feel like taking a nap, I sleep. Barring any work obligations, I'm just flowing with my body.

Does my neck feel 100% better? No. But it is better. I can sit down now. Little by little I'm making progress. I realize that it's going to take time. Have the panic attacks stopped? Yes. Because I've stopped pressuring myself. To me, that's a win. One day, I'll be stronger than ever, both emotionally and physically.

But for now: "I allow myself to heal."

​Him: Let's do a clean sweep.
Me: What's a clean sweep?
Him: It's when you clean the house as a team. You go from one room to another, knocking it out together.
Me: (Dumbfounded) Sure.

One Saturday morning, my husband announced that he wanted to do a "clean sweep" with me. We've been together for a long time, but we've never done this. We typically work on different parts of the house and cars alone. Most of the time that means that he's doing some sort of work on the yard or the cars, and I'm cleaning the inside. I didn't complain because that's how we just assumed that the work needed to be done. But this Saturday, he wanted to try to work together as a team on the interior of the house.

We worked from one room to the next in lockstep. We functioned well as a team and cleaned the house in half the time it usually takes me to do it alone. At some point in the middle of all the cleaning, I broke down and cried. I stood in the kitchen, with a dish in hand and a man by my side, and just lost it. I was overwhelmed with gratitude. I didn't know that working like this was possible.

It hit me in that kitchen that I'd only ever seen a married couple in my family cleaning together once before. I visited some family in the northeast one Thanksgiving, and one of my parents' cousins and his wife cleaned up the kitchen together after the meal. I witnessed it and cataloged it as a sweet memory. But something happened to me when my own husband wanted to work together on domestic responsibilities. It healed something in me: the idea that "carrying" something alone in a partnership is normal.

I like to think I'm pretty progressive in my views about womanhood, but there are some bad assumptions about black womanhood I'm still trying to shake. I'm used to seeing our women shoulder a ton while our men just watch or take a break from whatever hell they are experiencing in the world. Most of the black women I know carry the domestic responsibilities alone, whether they are the breadwinners or not. I'm so used to black women being strong for everyone else that it touches me deeply to see someone caring for her, even if it's just by lending a helping hand.

I have the best life partner, but this one act of kindness revolutionized the way I see family. 
I am not alone. 
YOU are not alone. 
Asking for help is an option. 
We can support one another much more than we realize, and when we work together, we are better. We just are.
-
If you want to receive these posts directly, email me at info@cyrahcreates.com.

So, I started the new treatment plan. And… I feel off. It’s like I stepped into another dimension and exchanged old symptoms for new symptoms, aka side effects. It’s weird. I shouldn’t be complaining. I should NOT be complaining. I know this. It is a blessing that I can finally see the finish line. But I have to be honest and say that this feels WEIRD.

My doctor told me that I’d probably be back to normal in a couple of months with my current treatment plan. She threw in a disclaimer that if I felt sick from the treatment, and we needed to adjust, we could tweak it as we go along. She was so light-hearted about it, I almost dismissed it. Almost.

My body nearly laughed at me when I jumped headlong into a new pill regimen. I’m a week in, and we’ve already had to adjust my dosage amounts. I feel a little weakling for not being able to just stomach it like a boss. But this past year was full of lessons, and one of the big lessons was learning how to flow with my body instead of fighting it. This my opportunity to practice what I’ve learned. Everything in me wants to skip ahead to the day that I feel one hundred percent normal, but I can’t push. I have to be gentle. I will get there if I work with my body, not against it.

If I can be honest, I didn’t expect this part of the journey to be easy. I knew deep down that I would experience some discomfort, but I secretly hoped that I was wrong. I want easy. I want comfortable. I WANT a miracle. But that isn’t how life works. Everything worth having costs something. I now know this from experience. Everything in life worth having costs something.

I claim to want to be better, and some temporary discomfort is the price. So, I will be patient with my body, adjust where needed, and accept this discomfort as a part of the process. Your girl is determined to suck it up and win.

This week I went to the doctor, and it went well. 
​
As I write that statement, it feels very anticlimactic. I've been dealing with undiagnosed symptoms in my body for a little over a year. The health issues forced me to stop my life and evaluate my values just like what the current pandemic has done to America. It began as the scariest experience of my life and slowly transformed into the most revelatory experience of my life, and it has become the most precious experience of my life. It was my wilderness season, where I wandered, found God, and found myself. It's been beautiful.

When my health started to get rocky, I went to many medical professionals and they couldn't find anything. Then I started going to a holistic practitioner that kept me going, helping me rebuild my energy and understand what my body doesn't like. It wasn't cheap, but I kept doing it. Over time, I stopped going to medical doctors every time I felt scared. They weren't giving me answers, and deep down I felt like God was telling me to just be patient with my body, so it could heal.

Then, out of nowhere, about two months ago, I got felt a release to go see a medical doctor. That urge was a complete surprise to me because I didn't think I'd ever find one that could actually help me. I got scared too. I'd become so connected to my body that I didn't want anyone to touch it without the utmost care. But if this past year taught me anything, it's that I have to follow my spirit. So, I started the process.

I had a candid conversation with my holistic practitioner. I told her that I felt like my body needed something more, and I probably should see a doctor, even though I wasn't sure who. She immediately said she had a contact that could help. She referred me to someone she fully trusted that specialized in the care I needed. Then, she told me what to have the doctor look for. At that moment, I felt like she handed me the secret keys to the kingdom. I wasn't sure if anything would come of it, but I was committed to trying.

I called the doctor, and it took about a month to get in with her. We talked through my symptoms, and she was the first doctor who heard my full story and took it seriously. She could even tell me where the issue started based on what happened, and she created a plan.

I had blood drawn, had to wait for the results, and scheduled a follow-up appointment. The whole process from the first call until my recent visit took two months. For two months, I felt like I'd stumbled into the right doctor but had to wait. I had to wait to even see if treatment was possible. The waiting wasn't fun, but eventually, I got good at it. I waited until it was time.

I went into the doctor's office this week, and she was able to tell me exactly what was wrong with my body and had a treatment plan to fix it. Thankfully, I hadn't developed a disease or disorder. My body just had some deficiencies and imbalances that triggered pain. We just needed to give my body what it lacked, so it could rebalance itself. After a year of quiet internal work and two months of waiting, I finally got answers.

I left that office with peace in my heart and a treatment plan in my hand. And I had the thought, "That's it?" My healing didn't come wrapped in dramatics. A year of dealing with my heart, two months of contacting the right doctor, and waiting, and my wilderness season was finally closing with one quiet meeting that changed everything. 

My doctor said it will probably take two months of treatment to be back to normal. It all depends on how my body responds. I have a feeling that she's right.

It all felt anticlimatic when I sat down to write this, but now that I'm reflecting I'm tearing up. I'm learning that goodness can be simple. It doesn't have to dramatic because goodness is enough. It's been a journey, and this chapter is closing in the best way. I'm grateful. I am content. I have answers...finally.

​Right now I'm in the middle. You know, those times when you're waiting on something awesome and you don't quite know what to do with yourself in the meanwhile? I am waiting on three opportunities as I write this: some are professional, some are personal. It's exciting but also a little... frustrating. I'm right in the middle. It's like I'm back in my senior year of high school, and I can see my graduation finish line. I'm moody. I'm over it. AND I feel guilty for being over it because these are first world problems. I spend most of my mental energy taming my inner brat.

I have always been terrible at waiting: 

• In my junior year in high school, I figured out that I could graduate a semester early. But a technicality kept me in school my entire senior year. I whined my way through it, skipped prom, and daydreamt about life outside of "prison" until I finally got out of there.
• A similar thing happened in my junior year in college. My advisor and I did the math and created an early graduation plan. She asked, "Are you sure you're ready to graduate? The real world is hard." I responded with a resounding, "YES!" Even with early graduation on the horizon, I knocked out assignments and quickly as I could and moped my way through the last month of classes. Again, I skipped most of the festivities along the way. Sidebar: HBCUs have a celebration for everything. There are luncheons and luncheons for the luncheons and award ceremonies and pictures and convocations and all sorts of events to make students aware that the moment was super special. I thought, "No thank you!" Just give me my degree, and I'll be on my way.
• The final month of my pregnancy was the absolute worst. My belly dropped a little earlier than expected, but the last couple of weeks I went on the longest walks just hoping for an even earlier arrival. I wanted my body back! My kid came a week before his due date, and he STILL couldn't come fast enough.

I have many, many more professional examples, but what is my problem? In all of these examples, the good thing I wanted was coming at the right time (which in most cases was earlier than normal), but I didn't know how to sit still and just enjoy the time in the middle.

When I look back, I realize this nervous energy has less to do with excitement for the future and more to do with discomfort in the present. I have to work on staying still and enjoying the moment until it's time for a change. Otherwise, I'm miserable during a time when I should be celebrating and soaking up the world around me.

If I could talk to my younger self, I would tell her to slow down and enjoy all of it. I would tell myself to celebrate my hard work and recognize that the season I was so anxious to get out of was really beautiful all along. I can't really talk to my younger self, but I can talk to my present self.

Cyrah, the present is beautiful. Enjoy it. Celebrate it. Because when the future comes, the present will be over, and you don't want to have missed it.