What Feels Right

It's probably almost time to stop talking about this, I know.

But here's the thing, I have this looming date in my brain that was supposed to be a big deal (like I had a card picked out, and bomb gift, and big plans to go to dinner, and y'all my mushy romantic heart was coming through,) and it hasn't even been a month yet, so I'll ask for grace one more time here.

I've got to say, the amount of space that I have been given to have these feelings, and say these hard things, has been...just so good. It's been the reprieve I have needed in this bizarre time. And it's been because you wonderful souls have accepted that some shit is so hard that you can't just keep it wrapped up tight.


I said the other day (last week? who knows,) that I am just trying to do what feels right.

I'm trying to settle into my gut instinct and just, go with it.

Because so much feels so wrong.

Even now I have whole days where I just think that this can't be right, we must have made a mistake. Which maybe we did. Maybe we royally screwed up, and the cosmic shift of the universe that succeeded is the whole reason that I feel like nothing fits. 

Or maybe that's just what this new life is supposed to feel like. Who knows.

Anyways. A lot feels wrong.

A lot feels like I'm not supposed to be here, I can't go there, that's not for me anymore. 

So when something does feel like I should do it, I should go there, I should be part of that - I'm doing it fast, and with my whole freaking heart.

Which, I will say, has sparked a bit of surprise in some of y'all.

The yoga, for one, has been sort of funny. Out of character, maybe. That's okay, it's working for me.
The running has just been more consistent. Which is a miracle to you and me, I think.
The solo hikes, that have officially crossed state lines, and elicited  a few, "yo, that's weird" texts.
Oh, and the not eating like I have no cares in the world. Well, that's just bizarre.

And I do want to explore each of these a little, but I also want to say: hey, if you're my friend, just support me. The yoga, the running, the hiking - it doesn't have to be your thing. That is for me. All I need from you is love and support. Just like you'd support me if I was going hard with the Netflix, and diving back into another pageant instead. 

I can tell you this, I have no idea why it is these things that feel like they are working for me. I have no idea why suddenly it is the quiet of being in the woods by myself, and going to a studio where no one knows me, and throwing my heart into a run, that I feel okay. 

I don't know.

Because sometimes, even when I'm doing those things, my heart still hurts.

But it hurts less. It feels more like this is for me. It feels more like my life is my own, and less like it is controlled by this elephant of sadness that is sitting on my chest.

I still don't know what I am doing when I go to yoga. I still don't really even want to hike with other people, because being alone out there just works. I am not running for time, or distance, or anything other than just to move, and not have it hurt at the same time.


Speaking of that, the sadness and that hurt sitting on me.

I'm working on that.

Today is hard, and different. And I would be happiest burying myself under the covers and letting it all just wash over me. But I'm still working on it.

It's a lot of long showers this week. It's a lot of giving myself grace when I end up crying, again. It's a lot of reminding myself that eating three regular meals actually helps.

It's celebrating the little - very little - victories. The pounds down, sleeping until 4 AM, two successful races completed, and two more booked. It all counts.

And it is a lot of just being willing to say, this fucking hurts.

Especially today, this hurts. All over. This feels wrong, and it doesn't fit.


I still don't know what comes next.

I still don't know what I am doing.

I still am just trying to do what feels right.

*This includes using old instagrams to fill this post so that a. it doesn't seem so long and b. because sometimes even mustering a happy picture is freaking hard. 


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