It’s not perfect.

Life comes in ebbs and flows and it’s not perfect. There’s really no point in pretending that it is.

I know people who do. I’ve seen them on instagram and twitter consistently maintaining this glorious, positive sheen of their lives, making like nothing is wrong and nothing is going on and everything is peachy keen. And I don’t see what the point of that is. Nobody’s life is perfect. Mine isn’t. And while these days I am incredibly grateful for everything I have, the more I continue on in this career and in this situation I’m in now, the more I realize I have to fight for all of this. Every single day.

I’m done pretending that everything I have is this rosy little package that comes easy. The last couple of days have been this big challenging annoying thing that’s rendered me sad and lonely and feeling a bit worthless and un-loved. I recalled a bad week all night long and it kept me awake on and off as I was striving to figure out what to do about a rough, rough few days. I was troubled. And I was exhausted. And I was trying to figure out what I was doing wrong. And the reality is: I do a lot of things wrong. I take a lot of things for granted. I get smug and/or jealous and/or frustrated. Because it’s not all perfect. And I’m okay with that.

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