Meg recently wrote a post on the same subject and I thought it would probably be a beneficial activity for me, as well, given my recent 26th birthday-induced angst
I forgive myself for not knowing. I forgive myself for not having a 5-year plan and still not having a clue what I want to be when I grow up. I forgive myself for nearly breaking into a cold sweat when I think about adult things like IRAs and retirement plans and marriage and babies.
I forgive myself for not always cleaning the kitchen after I cook – at least I’m feeding myself (generally) healthy things. I forgive myself for the graveyard of empty water bottles living on the passenger side of my car. And for the pile of clean laundry that seems never to leave the floor near the dryer. Also for that damn kitchen table I still have sitting in my apartment, the one without the legs.
I forgive myself for not eating dark, leafy greens every day, even though I know my body really appreciates it when I do. I forgive myself for sometimes choosing happy hour over a run. I forgive myself for spending far too much money on that Marc Jacobs messenger bag – I do get a lot of use out of it.
I forgive myself for this biting desire to run away, for my wanderlust. I need to use it to my advantage, instead of cursing myself for it.
I forgive myself for those times when other people’s feelings were caught in the fray of choices that I needed to make, for me.
I forgive myself for that night by the pool when I thought it would be a good idea to pour myself a mugful of tequila. I forgive myself for texting inappropriate things on nights like the aforementioned. I forgive myself for my penchant to communicate with persons I know I shouldn’t.
I forgive myself for feeling FEELINGS.
I forgive myself for it all. I do. I do.
Posted: Friday, May 4th, 2012 @ 11:53 am
Tags: forgiveness, growing up, words.
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