I’m going through my closet and weeding out clothes that I do not wear and ones that I really ought to stop wearing. I peeled a frayed pair of underpants right off of my body and threw them in the kitchen trash. Then, I stared at them in triumph. I do not have to keep wearing these just because I technically still can.
I was planning to pare down my belongings in anticipation of a move to a different apartment. Then, I took a brutally realistic look at my finances and knew that the smartest thing to do for now is just to re-up on my current lease. So, I looked around me and sighed. Stuck again.
So, I told myself that if this is my home, then I am going to make it matter. I am still going to purge the trash, deep clean it, and since I couldn’t afford the move, I will try to afford a few small upgrades. Those are TBA. Junk goes first. Curtains might be nice.
I am going to want what I have. And when I have nothing at all, I will be grateful for the simplicity that it brings. Right now, I am just sort of staying in my space. I am occupying a rented unit. The goal is to make this a home.
I live here. I LIVE here. I’m going to relax a little. I’m going to say this is okay. I am going to accept it and try so very hard not to be resentful. Sometimes this space feels like an impossible emptiness. Sometimes I do too. But it doesn’t have to be that way.
Somebody said once, “You are enough.” I keep telling myself to believe it.