One Little Word.

Sentiment.

In many ways, this is a word that is very foreign to me. I've spent the majority of my life protecting myself, hiding behind walls and experiences many could never relate to. Most of who I have become today, I could thank in large part to my husband and children. They are not, however, my whole story. There are many experiences, people, who have molded the person who writes the words before you. I think by habit, I shut myself off from those people and moments. Maybe out of habit, or maybe out of fear that I may trigger a more painful memory. At the end of the day though, I am who I am, all thanks to the whole of my life.

When I was in my junior year of high school,  my parents moved us from NY to FL. I left my friends, my school, my center; all on the heels of the single most devastating loss of my life. I was lost, depressed, and without purpose. I would eventually create for myself a semblance of a normal life, but none of it felt like it was a course for proper self-discovery.

Quite recently I found myself at ground zero for that point in my life. After many years, and many more experiences, I returned to the small Florida town I lost myself in all of those years ago. Quite ironically, right on the heels of my 10 year high school reunion.

Having switched schools, half way across the country, so far into my high school experience, I've never truly felt like I belonged anywhere. I left lifelong friends, right before we started making lifetime memories and bonds, yet arrived way too late to recreate those moments in my new school. I did the best I could, but amidst death, divorce, and dysfunction, the cards were stacked against me.

Most of my adult life thus far, has been a lesson in finding a proper balance. Balance between who I was as a teen all those years ago in Buffalo, to the lost young woman in Florida, back to the maturing mother wandering around the country. Which parts of me were worth holding onto? And which parts had I yet to find? It became this truly complex life lesson that I wasn't sure I would be able to teach myself.

All of this brings me to today. 12 years since a part of me died, since I began anew, since I started to rebuild the person who writes the words you read today. Last year, I first heard of the idea of assigning a word for the beginning of the New Year. The idea immediately struck a chord with me and I promised myself then that I would commit myself to the idea when the next New Year came around.

And so it has.

It took me a lot of time to choose my One Little Word. Ultimately, it came to me quite organically, as it has been the one thing that I have been searching for for so many years; balance.

I am someone who has struggled with balance for a very long time. Not only because I wear so many hats, but because I am someone who struggles with details. I am the type of person who likes to do everything I do to the best of my ability. And in the moments where I do less than that, I feel as though I'm letting a part of me down. At some point though, you realize that you just can't do everything, in all ways, to the extent that you want to. At some point, something has got to give. And that doesn't equate to failure.

There will be times that I have to remember that I deserve to treat myself as who I am; a woman. A strong, independent, often times overwhelmed, but nonetheless deserving, woman. A woman who deserves an hour at the gym, who needs a quiet story time with her son, who looks forward to cooking dinner with her husband, who should not feel guilty about getting her hair done.

So this year, in all that I say and do, I will remind myself of the balance that I am searching for. To even out every bad day with a good one, every impatient word, with a compassionate one, and every struggle with a success. Because it is not always about what you cannot or did not do, but more so what you can and will do the next time.