What are your truths?

I’m turning 31 this month. I had almost forgotten it was June. The months are flying, the seasons changing faster than ever before. 

The year of 30 brought me so many gifts, a lifetime of gifts really. It has been a year of letting go of the old to make room for the new. A year of new chapters, new dreams, new accomplishments.

During this year I've practiced letting go of the things that didn’t truly matter to me, letting go of what didn’t fit me anymore to create space for the things, for the experiences that do. 

I let go of the physical, of the focus on physical appearance. I made a promise to not weigh myself for my year of 30. I honored my strength, my ability to use my body to live, to experience life. I allowed myself the freedom to exist in my body without judgement. I used to start my morning by stepping on the scale and letting the numbers dictate how I’d feel the rest of the day. This wasn't a way to live and I knew it. So, I stopped. I gave myself a gift. I stopped stepping on the scale. I stopped defining myself by how I look or even worse, how I felt I looked. 

And now, I feel free. I feel more content and open than I ever have. I now feel stronger and have gained clarity on my worth and my value. I can say I value myself. I value my place in the world. 

I won't say that I feel beautiful because I don't. But the importance I place on beauty has shifted. How I understand beauty has changed. Beauty is character. With that newly found value I can now recognize my truths.

I am kind. I am determined. I listen. I am empathetic. I am worthy. I am giving. I am honest. What are your truths? Hint: It is not the number on the scale, how much money you make, how many countries you've traveled to, or how many things you own.

Take a moment to think about your character, your inner most truths. Acknowledge them. Celebrate them. Lean into them. Let your truths, let your value kindle that deep fire within you. 

It feels good doesn't it?

During my year of 30 I've also let go of perfectionism. Committing to imperfect action has helped me let go of my critical nature. Doubts are fading away.  

I am now 55,000 words into the book I'm writing and I recently found home in the beautiful mountains of North Carolina. Two of the biggest things that happened during my year of 30 happened because I let go. 

I stopped waiting to be the perfect writer to start my book. I stopped waiting to fully understand my story in order to write it. I stopped wanting the perfect writing space and uninterrupted time, and I stopped waiting for confidence. I put the doubt away, the fear and the overwhelm. I began writing my book sitting on my grandma's unmade bed in the town I grew up in, a town I hate with all of my being. I began writing my book with distractions and responsibility tugging at me ruthlessly. Little by little I had words on the page, stories that needed to be told, reflections spilling from one page to the next. 

Doubt, distraction, self-loathing, they still try to knock me down. They do their worst to try to paralyze me. I'm not saying the fighting stops, but it does it get easier. The load gets lighter.

So, what are you holding yourself back from doing because you don't think you're ready? Let go. You're ready. Or maybe you don't think you can achieve it? You can. You will. What are you waiting to do until everything is perfect? Stop waiting. Things will never be perfect. The time will never be right. The responsibilities will always pile up. The uncertainty will always find a way to creep in. Do it anyway. Do it because you love it, because it’s in you. Follow your truth.

I promise you, you won't fail. You know why? Because you did it. That in itself is triumph. Most people will never even try. They won’t reach their full potential because they won’t let go. Don’t get to the end of your life with tired arms and a heavy heart because you couldn’t stop holding on. Move forward in spite of perfectionism, in spite of doubt or fear. Move forward, one truth at a time, move forward.

Oh, and what about my house in the mountains? After years of searching I finally found home. I’m sitting on the porch listening to the birds while writing to you, but that’s a story for another day.