I’m not who I want to be.
I don’t look like her.
I don’t dress like her.
I don’t speak like her.
I don’t live like her.
I am not the mum she is.
I am not the wife she is.
I am not the friend she is.
I am not as smart as her.
I am definitely not as funny as her.
I am not as confident as she is.
I don’t fit into her clothes, much less her shoes.
Some days this is debilitating. Some days the frustration of how far from what I imagine I want to be is from what I see myself being overwhelms me, and causes an even greater chasm.
But I have to be. I have to breathe. I have to give myself permission to fail everyone in my life every day, or I will fail them even worse.
I do the best I can at each moment.
But that doesn’t mean I can’t dream that tomorrow will be different.