In reading an email I sent to a friend detailing the events of the last two years of my life, I discovered something about myself this weekend: I never really thought of myself as a "strong" person, but what I've gone through, the decisions I've made and my strong convictions have taught me that I am, indeed, strong.
Strength is as much a willingness to make changes, no matter how frightening, as well as feeling in control and picking your battles. Strength is accepting your mistakes and pledging to learn from them, more so than it is to sit back and never try anything in the first place and just accept the status quo. It's going with your gut, when everyone else points in the opposite direction.
It's resilience.
I've learned a lot about myself in the last 24-months or so. Sure, it may take me a while, but eventually I come around. I've always been a slow or late bloomer. But when I've made up my mind to do something, there's no stopping me, even if it takes me longer than most. I don't have regrets. I would, though, if I just sat back and accepted everything as it was even if it hurt to do so.
I may at times seem overly-sensitive or indecisive. But that's just my mind working over-time to make sure I'm making the right choices. I tend to hash things out in my head, by myself. It does keep me up at night and gives me butterflies, but in the long-run, I am confident in my decisions. There's no looking back. I do what I need to do and move forward.
It's a quiet strength I never realized I had. I took it for granted as being weak. That's far from the truth.
As anxious as I was last Friday to make that phone call, I did, to surprising results. Once I put the nerves and excessive sweating behind me, I felt renewed and a huge sense of accomplishment. I could tackle anything at that point. I had no regrets and saw the anxiety I experienced as a blessing and opportunity.
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