So I’m duly done and over with the mourning of my old self, since the time period that qualifies as the ‘best old self’ varies wildly. Physically it would be around 2002, when my bulimia (yes, yes, yes, future post I’m sure) had finally shaved all the unwanted pounds right away, and my ferocious dancing schedule kept me tight n toned. My skin as glowing and my hair was noice!
Academically, it was probably 2003 since I was fresh from a scholarship to a French University and my grades were beasting it up- I was turning in A’s almost by accident and without effort, it seemed.
Professionally, that would be around 2011. I named and launched a product that is now seeing roll out in several other countries, building every aspect of its brand identity with my own hands. It got me recognized at an industry gathering and people I’m awe of KNEW MY NAME. Screeeeaaam.
Romantically, of course there was the whole, married the love of my life thing and how that blossomed into our beautiful family, so 2010 (even though that’s only getting more and more amazing, making that more of a jump-off year than a screen-shot year).
And emotionally….hm. Perhaps I’m still seeking emotionally, but I’d say 2009 was a good year for that too.
I’m FOREVER seeking a higher spiritual plane. I will never stop trying to be more and more of God’s Girl, so I’m not sure there’s a YEAR for that, either.
Then there’s 2014. Oh dear sweet 2014, which has felt like such a wrecker of hopes, dreams, aspirations, health and body image. I was quite prepared to just write off this year as a thing to just get through when it dawned on me that as of today, we’re only just ending the first half. THE FIRST HALF! There’s like a whole ‘nother half to come.
A WHOLE ‘NOTHER HALF!!!
The first flash of emotion was “ARE YOU KIDDING? UNSUBSCRIBE!!!”
But the next, which I choose to believe God sent straight into my heart-parts was, “WHOOO! LET’S DO THIS!”
And that’s the one I’m sticking with.
Because yeah, okay fine several things about my life have not gone in the optimal Plan A kind of way I would have preferred. But so WHAT? That was just the first half! And after the first half comes the second half, then overtime and even penalty shoot outs if it comes to that (husband has me nicely World-Cupped, thank you). So WHAT ON EARTH was I thinking throwing the whole thing down as done already? I am ashamed.
Twice in just the past few days alone the world has watched as penalty shoot outs decided the fate of the nations (CHILE EN MI CORAZON) still battling it out for The Title. I won’t talk about how even for the losers it was still *just* a game, for I do not wish to die. I won’t disregard how it felt for the go-home teams to go home, after so much went into getting to where they got. (I’m just sayin’ tho…imagine Brazil having to ‘go home’ in their own home country? Like, GO HOME BRAZIL, then they just walk off the field and ta-da. Home, done and done. No, that would have been truly a hard one to hold one’s head up for.)
What I choose to focus on is the fact that in those matches, all the odds were technically evened out ending up with the two teams staring down the barrels of antsy goalkeepers. Any man’s game. If they had walked off the field at half time, or decided to just lay there in the heat and slowly die of give-uppity instead of giving it every thing they had, they could have- any of them- just lost the chance to do something greater with the second half of that game. Then! Then, let’s say that second half came and it still looked even, there were still all kinds of hiccups they were facing. One team had to have been more tired. One had an injured goalie for crying out loud!
It could have been easy to play out those extra 20 minutes pre-defeated and just call it one long hot failure of a day.
Then after all of that, with no definitive outcome there’s MORE! THEN comes the penalty shoot out. I imagine any player could have straight up refused to take that burden on, because of ‘what if I miss?’ or ‘what if MY miss is THE miss that sends us all home?’ (Sorry, Gekas. Cookie?) “Maybe I should fake heat stroke and just let someone else take the chance.” Or even a basic, “if I see a football one more time I WILL feed it to the ref.”
I salute every player that faces down that ball. Even if they’re exhausted and at the end of all skill. Even if they are clearly seeing some great goalpost in the sky and are aiming for that one, instead of the plain ole earthly version of itself. Even when they kick directly into the keeper’s gently cupped hands or waiting feet. Even if they completely fall apart. They tried.
And when you try you can fail.
But also pass. Also score. Also rain victory down on heads that were a bizarre combination of equal parts doubtful and expectant.
I choose that one.
I’m going to give the second half of 2014 the run of my life.
I am going to be amazing.
I am going to be
Hold me to that, dear Interwebs.
This girl’s going in with nothing but faith and hope, a little extra insulin
And some cookies for courage
(yes. I see the irony in that. Move it along, medical know-it-alls, bigger things are happening here).
LET’S DO THIS!