Sometimes I find myself caught up, thinking about the past.
Wishing I’d taken this risk, become friends with that person, tried harder, studied more.
Wishing I’d been more open, honest, brave, loving. That I’d said this, didn’t said that.
(It’s funny how the small bumps in a long, lovely road are the ones that our minds drive back to).
Then I look at my life now, filled to the brim with love and connections and adventures.
Exactly how I want(ed) it to be.
And I look at myself - still learning and growing and making mistakes, but a woman I deeply love and am proud to be.
And I know that every bump, even the ones that made me fall to my knees, were somehow part of this flow - my flow.
The one that brought me to where I am today. The one that’s meant for me.
I’m so damn grateful for it all.
So when I find myself looking backwards down my road, examining the bumps, or looking at the road ahead, fearing the bumps I know will be there, I remind myself of this.
I remind myself to love and to trust.